My HiME: Fresco
by Aku-dono
Summary: AU fic In a world populated by thousands of HiMEs, 13 years old Kuga Natsuki, who volunteers with the Minato ward Police for undisclosed reasons, finds herself juggling a newfound partnership and an investigation that is not what it seems... Not NatOC.
1. Prologue: Partner Blues

He was the undisputed King of the area, standing atop his throne and gazing down at the pathetic, inferior creatures below. Every Being of Importance knew and feared Him and His strength, and none dared trespass on His lands. Females unanimously called Him beautiful and bent to His imperious demands, and His mere profile was a well known sight, adored by the masses.

Yes, He was a very satisfied tabby grey alley cat, standing on top of a chain link fence and looking down at a bunch of humans waiting at a bus stop.

He had never really understood – or cared to understand – why those weird-looking two-legged creatures wearing ugly fake furs would willingly be eaten in whole groups by the big metallic monsters that roared when they moved. As stupid as humans apparently were, it was a surprise there was still so many of them.

But He was clever, and He had long since noticed that the noisy monsters were afraid of the red lights on top of the black poles, and liked to wander on the black ground a lot more than the grey. He also knew they always ate at the same spots, swallowing every human that had foolishly waited for them, and spat out a couple of them every now and then – probably the nastier-tasting one; He had had the misfortune of eating a few mice that had eaten something bad before, too.

Ah, and there was one approaching right then, towering above smaller monsters. It stopped at where the grey ground turned at the big cross of black ground in the middle of his Mighty Territory, opened both of its weird vertical mouths and let the humans walk in the front one like flying chirpers ramming into an invisible wall and falling into His powerful claws, while spitting out only one human from the back; it must have been pretty lucky in its last catch. When the humans were all eaten, it closed its mouths and set off with a deafening roar that made Him seethe; honestly, hadn't their mothers told them that a hunter should stay as quiet as possible, lest their prey learns of their presence and escapes?

…hm, but in this case, the prey jumped into its mouths… this bore reflection, perhaps mice would also walk in His mouth should He purr loudly enough?

From His perch, He continued to gaze down. The human that had been spat out didn't appear to be shocked at all. He had always had trouble telling male humans from females, but while this one had long hair tied in one of those completely failed tail imitations like a female would (oh, how He could understand their envy at not having a slender tail like His, but it didn't excuse that their imitations failed to look like a real tail at all—It was mounted on their heads, for one, and He felt mildly insulted that even they stupid creatures could confuse a sleek Feline face with a behind), it didn't appear to be female; He had noticed females tended to be a bit curvier, while males were more solidly built… but those few with the large outward curves still mystified him.

The bits of hairless skin – yech! – that weren't covered by those constricting fake furs they seemed to think were pleasant to look at were a bit darker than the skin most of the other humans had (although He _had_ seen a lot darker before); kind of dark-yellow to the usual pale yellow. He had weird strands of fur sticking out of his cheeks and chin (most likely another Cat-imitation effort, mildly more successful than the first) and stood quite a bit taller than the average, which was to say that He doubted He would be able to get on his shoulder without sinking his claws into that ugly dark blue fur and matching jeans and climbing up.

…not that claw marks in those fake furs would make them any worse.

In fact, claw marks would probably make them better: everyone, after all, wanted to have reminders of the reassuring, all-powerful and far superior Feline race with them. Oh, if he was a house cat, he would thank the unworthy humans for their roof with this gift wherever he could sink His mighty claws. How generous He was!

The human gave a look around, as if he had only noticed now that he had been eaten and spat out by a Loud Two-mouthed Monster, shifted the weight of his weird bulging back – oh wait, it was another piece of fake fur hanging to his back by two straps… strange apparel, really – and set off to the Safe Corner, where he waited for the light to turn red for the Dangerous Side before crossing; he appeared to be heading toward the big building where He knew there was an impolite, foolish upstart who copied His exact movements from the other side of the invisible wall whenever it was sunny enough, like today.

He gave an imperious sniff, gave a look at His paw and saw, to His stupefaction and horror, that some of the flawless white fur that covered the very tip had been stained with mud. He could not possibly let such a thing be unattended, and thus began to clean Himself with His tongue, a process much more important than watching a boring human without food to give Him.

Had the human heard the cat's thought about their relative importance, he would have probably felt a bit offended. But, as he wasn't a psychic, much less a cat, he completely ignored the feline disdain coming from behind him. His eyes were firmly set on the tall and imposing mirror-windowed building in front of him (wincing as the windows reflected a ray of today's brilliant sunlight directly into his eyes), and he read the Kanji symbols over the front door as he crossed the parking lot.

Minato-ku Keishichou.

Minato Ward Police Headquarters.

A smile drew itself on his face.

He was finally here. _Finally_, he was going to be a real Tokyo police detective.

Finally he was going to have a real partner.

His smile grew lewd.

And hopefully his partner would be a cute girl, hopefully a single one, and hopefully interested in changing that.

It was always good to have hopes, he reflected as he pulled the doors open and stepped inside.

-

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**My**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**Disclaimer: **My HiME, its characters and anything you may recognize do not belong to me. However, anything you do not recognize _does_ belong to me. What, you've never heard of Tokyo? Be right back, I'm calling the Japanese Prime Minister to see if he'd like to buy his metropolis back.

**Prologue: Partner Blues**

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are they here yet?"

The receptionist sighed; it was the third time Ichidouji Eriko-chan, a Researcher from the Investigation Assistance Department, and her best friend/fellow bar stalker, asked this question in the last ten minutes.

"No, we still have time," she replied tiredly for the third time, twirling a lock of her short brown hair. With a disappointed grumble of "Mouu…", her busty friend went to busy herself elsewhere, though the receptionist knew Eriko would come back to ask the same question in a few minutes; she placed a mental bet of a thousand yen on two minutes or less.

Sakurazaki Haruko, twenty-four years old, sighed for the seventh time that morning. She felt like she had missed her calling in life in scoring this post as a receptionist in the Minato ward Police Headquarters. Oh, certainly, it was an important job with many varied tasks and that had a very nice salary to keep her interested, but it also came with a large amount of work, and, while everyone at school had known her as a friendly, likable and patient person, thus perfect for public works, she was also undoubtedly and unashamedly lazy (a trait arguably better fit for a government worker).

That, and boy-crazy. Actually, it had been the latter reason much more than any of the first that had initially made her interested in becoming a receptionist. After all, who meets more people, thus, cute men, in her life than the ever-helpful receptionist? The fact that the job had only asked minimal amounts of studies, mostly in Japanese and using word processing software, both of which she was pretty good in, and that it was either that or being someone's secretary (urgh, no, _thank you_) only made the choice easier.

She had found herself disappointed, however, after a few weeks into this job. The people working at the headquarters were friendly enough, but there was not one that had met her (admittedly steep) expectations. Most of the people she ended up meeting were involved in one way or another in a crime (she _really_ should have thought about _that_) and thus were too shady for her mother to consider (not that she really _cared _about that, but it was the _principle_ of the thing). And finally, she would have _never_ thought there was so much damned _paperwork_ involved in police work; she spent half her days helping the other girls in administration by separating documents and reports to be taken to the Archives.

It was a thankless, difficult job, not what she had expected, and with no or very little cute men to balance it.

At least she was well paid for her troubles. Maybe that lining wasn't silver, but it was at least grayish-white.

Still, the stories she heard from the officers kept her entertained well enough, which was more than she could have expected from working in a finance company or whatnot. Plus, this particular ward's police department had some… _interesting_ agents.

And one of those agents, half of what was probably the strangest and functionally mismatched pair of partners in the whole department, if not the whole force, was the reason why the whole Headquarters seemed to be as active as an anthill today.

The venerable Kumaji Keitaro, the oldest agent on the field, had recently been promoted, and today would be his first day on his new duties as Captain. And since his partner was – cue to the understatement of the century – nowhere near as experienced as he was, she was now missing a partner, and Kumaji's replacement was due to arrive today, freshly transferred from a small sleepy village in Wakayama-ken.

Thus, everyone had planned a great big party in the lobby, both as a congratulations for Kumaji and as a welcome for… um… what was his name again… Tanuki… Yuuichi? No… Yuu—um…Tanaki Yuu—

The front door opened with a gush of warm summer air, and Haruko's train of thought suffered from a spectacular derailment. The sound of the crash, which resonated loudly in her mind, went like this: _"Tanak**hawt**!"_

The man who was standing in the doorway could have been described in details, from his sharp face that hinted to something foreign in his blood, to his long and somewhat messy long hair dark brown hair that simply looked perfect on him, to his smiling black eyes and almost childish rounded nose, to his finely built tanned body. He could have simply been neutrally described as roguishly attractive, which he very much was with his unshaven beard…

Or he could have been described the Sakurazaki Haruko way: "Yummy."

"Ah, Yumi, you said?" Ohmygod, he was talking to her! Could he be intere----

Oh, right. Receptionist. People-greeter. Of _course_ he was talking to her.

"E-Excuse me," she said professionally, or at least as professionally as she could with her heart racing and his face less than a foot in front of her – she idly noticed he was bending a bit over the counter to move closer to her; she didn't really mind. "Welcome to the Minako ward police department, what can I do you f—what can I do for you?" _damnit!_ She cursed mentally. She was _not_ going to sound like an idiot – or a sex-obsessed freak – to the first cute guy to have ever walked in!

He smiled pleasantly; it did wonders to his already wonderful face, which did not help her stay calm at all. "I'm Tanaka Yuuki, I've been transferred here—"

Three things registered extremely quickly to her mind:

A real-life Ryouji Kaji was in front of her.

He was the new agent.

Meaning, he was going to be a frequent visitor.

"YESSS!"

"Haruko?" came from behind her; it was Eriko. It made her realize she had stood up and said the last part _quite_ loudly. Her grin froze in mortification as she quickly sat back down and turned to her computer, pretending to do something. Yes. The turquoise glow of the desktop was much, much safer than the face of the man she had just embarrassed herself in front of. At least a computer wouldn't snicker at the bright crimson blush she _knew_ was burning on her face.

…unlike him.

"Oh, so, it's Haruko-chan, hn?" She heard him say; his low rumbling voice seemed _much_ more interesting when one wasn't looking at him. "And what's your name, _kawaii_ _Ojousan?_"

_Cute princess! Why does **she** always get the god o----GOOD ones!_

She heard Eriko reply her name in a high-pitched squeak that reassured her a bit; she obviously wasn't the only one making a fool of herself. After collecting her wits, she quickly checked on today's agenda and… yes, here it was, Tanaka Yuuki, twenty-four years old. She resisted the urge to burst into a little dance of joy. Of course, she knew he was going to be partnered with Princess, but…

…but if Haruko ended up losing this hunk to _her_, then she was going to go to a bar and try to drown her worthlessness.

"We've been waiting for you, Tanaka-san," She told him.

_Oh, yes we have… or at least **I** have…_

"Ah, I'm not late, am I?" he asked, a bit sheepishly. "The bus trip took longer than I expected, and I got lost a bit at Shibuya, and—"

"No, no," she quickly interrupted, earning a relieved sigh from him. "In fact, you're about half an hour early."

"Oh, good." He smiled; she felt her heart do a little flip-flop and her face heat up again. Damnit, if this kept her, she was going to have to change her name from Sakurazaki to Sakura-iro! (1) "Is my partner here yet?"

She frowned at the eagerness in his voice. Was he _that_ happy to be partnered with _her_? What was he, some kind of deviant? Or maybe he didn't know about her?

Yes, that was probably it. Not many people knew about her, after all.

"No," she replied. "She should be here soon, though."

She noticed his smile growing a bit as he noted her pronoun use.

"Then I'd better put on my uniform," he said with a slight lift of his broad shoulders, making the backpack he was wearing bounce along. "Where are the changing rooms?"

_To change. Verb, simple present tense. The action of removing one's clothing to put on something else. Implies a certain amount of nakedness. _

"O-Oh, they're down that hallway," she quickly pointed at a door at the left, mentally cursing at her treacherous mind. In fact, she was so busy cursing it that she didn't notice her mistake as she told him the path _she_ took every day to put on her uniform.

-------------

"_Ookini_," he thanked her before setting off through the door marked "employees only". (2)

_Haruko, hn?_ He thought while he walked. He still didn't know why she had called herself "Yumi" when he had asked, but she certainly was pretty, he had to admit, with neck-length brown hair, brown eyes and a blush he decided was frankly cute. But in other departments, namely the breasts, she was somewhat lacking for his tastes. Now, her friend, though – Eiko or Eriko, he wasn't sure what she had replied exactly – she was _equipped_. Pity she had made a mousy first contact.

Oh well, the shy ones were always fun, he decided as he distractedly opened the door Haruko had pointed him at, but personally, he preferred the spicy, fiery ones.

As he selected himself an empty locker, put his backpack down on the bench and reached down to pull off his shirt, he wondered what type his (hopefully female) partner would be.

Unfortunately for him, he _didn't_ notice the dress-wearing pictogram on the door.

-------------

The front door opened again less than a minute later, allowing two people, as different from each other as day and night, inside the building. The first was male, middle-aged, tall, had graying hair and an aura of severity about him that was very much helped by his dark blue police uniform. The other was much smaller, female, in her very early teens, wore a white sweater with blue jeans, a black plastic collar around her neck and a bored look on her china-doll face.

Haruko recognized both of them at first sight and loudly said, both for them and as a signal for the crowd in the back, "Princess! Kumaji! Welcome back!"

One of the young girl's dark blue eyebrows rose over her stunningly green eyes, as if she was silently saying "Wow, how unsubtle can you be?" Haruko pointedly ignored her; she was already aware of the plan. Haruko's next job was to somehow get Kumaji to go straight to the lobby, without making him suspicious.

Kumaji Keitaro gave a grunting nod. "I got her," he simply said, as he had done every day 'Princess' didn't have school for the past four years. "Is the newbie here yet?"

_Chance! _Haruko thought as she quickly nodded. "He came in just a little before you did. Maybe he's in the lobby?"

"Hmn." He noised, heading for the side door. Just before opening it, though, he turned toward her with a lopsided smile. "I'll pretend not to know about the surprise."

Both the girls flinched. "H-How--" the youngest began, but was interrupted by a dismissing hand wave from the new Captain.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Princess." And with that, he left through the door. Haruko and 'princess' shared a look, and the latter shrugged derisively.

"We should have known better than to try and surprise a detective. Anyway, I'll go fetch my present, I left it in my locker yesterday. Was the part about the newbie being here real or...?"

"Oh, he's real, alright," Haruko said with something of a lewd smirk. 'Princess' decided she had heard enough and quickly retreated through the doors marked "employees only".

I'm sure we can all guess what was about to happen.

The young girl went as she usually did directly for the women's locker rooms. She had been there often enough to know the way by herself. Once at the door, she turned the handle without saying a word or knocking - it wasn't like anyone in there didn't have anything she wouldn't have one day - and pushed the door open in one swoop, her eyes immediately falling on her locker, barely glancing at the Half-naked man in the process of untying his belt in the middle of the room. She moved forward toward---

--Wait, back up. Half-naked man?

She slowly walked backward, shut the door and glanced up at the pictogram nailed to it. Women's locker room, check. It was not an embarrassing mistake on her part.

She opened the door again. Half-naked man near the middle of the room, check. Half-naked man staring at her in complete shock, hands still on his untied belt, check.

Hands letting go of the aforementioned belt, check.

Grey boxers, hairy legs and black pants pooled on the floor, very, very check.

She took a deep breath and…

-------------

"SURPRISE!"

It was this chorused word, along with a big banner saying "Congratulations!" hanging near the entrance, that welcomed Captain Kumaji in the lobby. As he had said before, he pretended to be surprised, but he didn't have to pretend much when the busty research aide Eriko gave him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek -being careful not to leave any of her red lipstick behind; he was a married man, after all- amidst the whoops and applauses from the other people in the room.

The lobby was really an improvised waiting room; a lot of semi-comfortable chairs assembled in a more-or-less clearly delimited square, with more chairs near the middle, and a coffee machine within easy reach on the nearby administration desk; at most, this area could hold more than twenty-five people, but in practice, there was never more than a handful of seats taken. Surrounded by partitioned cubicle-office area, this wasn't where criminals waited, no; criminals were sent to the holding cells on the second floor. This place was for officers on a break or for the occasional person with a rendezvous with the Chief or some officer.

Sitting on the desk directly in front of the door, the aforementioned Chief, a hard-faced, ambitious and dreadfully attractive woman twenty years younger than his respectable fifty-four years of age who, as the story went, had shot up the ranks like a rocket, clapped her hands to take everyone's attention. With her authoritative voice that made even _he_ listen to her very carefully, she declared,

"Now, as you may know, Kumaji here was finally rewarded for his few hundreds of years of service and granted the post of Captain, which means he's just one rank below me. _That_ means he'd better _forget_ about ever getting another promotion and knocking me off my job, or he might end up having an… unfortunate _accident_." Laughter followed. One of Kumaji's greyish-black eyebrows rose.

"First, at the rate you're going up the ranks, by the time I'm lined up to be promoted again, you'll be crowned Queen of the World."

"_Empress_ of the World. Queen is such a banal title," she quickly corrected in the most serious of voices, ignoring the sniggers. "And second?"

"Second, I wouldn't want your job anyway; wouldn't want to end up bored to death by all the paperwork you push," he said with a bear-like chuckle, then waited for the snickers to abate before adding, "and besides. Hundreds of years? I guess that makes you a couple hundred minus twenty, right?"

"Don't make me demote you already, Kumaji," she replied darkly under the generalized laughter, but while her mouth was curved downward, her eyes were smiling.

Kumaji opened his mouth to continue their banter, but a loud explosion came from deeper in the office. It was an explosion of voice, an explosion of strength, and of the one of the most powerful forces in the known world.

It was an explosion of female outrage. And the sound of it went somewhat like this:

_**"PERVERT!" **_

Exclamations, muffled by the walls, followed, along with various impact sounds and what seemed to be cursing. The sounds appeared to be rapidly coming closer, and as they did, some became audible enough to identify: they sounded like high-pitched whirrs and were inevitably followed by impact sounds. To quite a few people in the room, the sound was very familiar. The chief seethed visibly, her good humor having been summarily shot with extreme prejudice.

"She'd better have a _damned_ good reason to create her Elements indoors."

The reason came through the door a few seconds later, wearing only a pair of grey boxers and a panicked expression --"Hubaah!" was Haruko's mostly ignored reaction, while Eriko went beet red and escaped to the safety of the archives— and followed by a righteously angry young teenage bluette with two derringer-sized oddly-shaped guns in her hands, both aimed directly at him.

"I SAID _STOP THAT_, YOU CRAZY LITTLE BITCH!" He was shouting, quickly ducking as one of the guns fired a ray of blue light that narrowly missed him and instead sailed over the assembled crowd's heads to smash into a cubicle partition wall, where it left an inch-wide hole in the artificial cloth.

"If that's supposed to make me want to hurt you _less_, it's _not_ working!" She shot back, both verbally and with her guns. He avoided another blast by a hair, then flinched as a nearby flower vase was obliterated in a cloud of dirt and petals.

The Chief sharply stood; she'd had had enough. Kumaji quickly took some distance.

"_BOTH OF YOU, **STOP THIS INSTANT!**_" she yelled, loudly enough to knock a certain King off His perch.

Unsurprisingly, they listened. The young teen emitted a quiet "eep" and opened her hands; the guns disappeared like clouds of smoke being blown by the wind. The half-naked man seemed to notice his current situation (standing nearly naked in front of a room full of people) and decided to attempt to hide himself behind a potted plant barely enough tall to hide his boxers; it did not help his situation any, as it now appeared he was wearing nothing and was trying to hide that fact --"**guh--!**" went Haruko, quickly picking up a tissue for her inexplicably bleeding nose.

"Kuga, what's the rule about using your Elements indoors?" The chief asked pointedly.

"Um... don't?" 'Princess', Kuga, replied sheepishly.

_"AND?_"

She muttered something inaudible. The Chief cleared her throat sharply, and the young teen sighed and repeated louder, "under the threat of ending up spending a whole weekend on cleaning duty."

"Exactly. You're lucky today is a special occasion, but next weekend, you'll be helping the janitors."

Yuuki found the girl's childishly outraged face hilarious as she whined, "B-But that pervert--"

"And as for _YOU_," gone was all hilarity from the new officer's mind as the Chief turned toward him, eyes glaring angrily. She reminded him of an angry lioness. "Who the hell are you and why the fuck aren't you wearing any pants!"

"Um... about that, see, I was in the changing room, just about to put on my uniform, and suddenly this psychotic little brat pops up--"

"Who's a psycho!" The girl snapped, "and you were in the _girls'_ changing room, _pervert_!"

"W-W--But I only the directions she gave me--" he waved at Haruko, who was holding a tissue to her nose and grinning sheepishly as everyone turned to look at her.

"Oobs?" she replied nasally.

The Chief gave her a loud sigh, then turned back toward Yuuki. "And your name---never mind, just… get back to the changing rooms and put something on, then go to my office and tell me. I don't want to have _this_ in my mind every time I hear your name."

There was a nasal whisper along the lines of "says yuu" from Haruko.

Yuuki quickly listened and went back through the door. As the door closed, Kumaji turned toward the Chief, a smile on his face.

"Not bad, but next time you throw a party for me, try to arrange it so it's a half-naked _woman_ showing up instead. Men don't do much to me."

"Shut up."

-------------

_'That could have gone better.'_

Understatements were wonderful things, reflected the Kansaijin officer as he stepped into the Chief's office. There are very few things in this world, or at least the in English language, that can convey as big a sense of "well, crap. Now what?" such as what traveled through his mind at that moment.

The Chief's office was a small and cozy place. A small square room on the third floor, within easy access to the first and second, it was framed on one side by a window with a very good view on the parking lot and the streets, although the surrounding skyscrapers and tall buildings stopped the skyline from being too impressive, and on three others by light-blue painted walls. A cardboard white roof equipped with a single and far sufficient neon light made the ceiling, while a thin blue and grey carpet covered the floor. The office was divided in half by the Chief's blue-themed artificial-material desk, behind which its owner sat with visible impatience on a comfortable-looking dark blue office chair.

Yuuki had a feeling she liked blue.

The Chief, he had to admit, was stunning, in a voracious way. Long shiny darkish-green hair complimented by a sharp-angled feminine face, deep cerulean eyes and small green gem earrings, full lips covered by a very light shade of lipstick, lithe, tall and voluptuous body clad in a tight dark blue uniform jacket and form-fitting jeans in the same color.

It wasn't the beauty of a majestic waterfall, or that of a field of flowers, but the beauty of a fierce tiger on the prowl, ready to rip anything that bothered it to shreds.

His favorite type.

Had things been different, Yuuki would have probably tried to chat her up, even if she was probably ten years older than him. However, he felt that, with the angry glare coming from the psychotic little girl – Why the hell was she here anyway? And where did her guns go? – and the mere presence of the brawny veteran sitting on the chairs in front of the desk, and with the icy stare that came from the Chief's blue eyes, it would have been a Very Bad Idea indeed.

"About time," was her reaction when he came in. "So, your name? I'm guessing you're the transfer."

"Ah... yes, I'm Detective Tanaka Yuuki, I just transferred from Misato-cho... and sorry 'bout earlier. It won't happen again."

"Well, I hope so, or I'd have to get you arrested and thrown to jail for corrupting minors," she said coldly with a general wave at the young teen, who sniffed disdainfully (and muttered something he preferred to ignore about there being nothing _big_ to corrupt her with). Although the Chief's voice told she was dead-serious, Yuuki guessed the words couldn't be anything but a joke.

...right? Couldn't be true, right? Right!

"But let's leave that incident shot repeatedly, left in a ditch and buried," the Chief continued - "Can we do the same for the cause?" the little girl asked, and was ignored, - "It's time for the introductions. This here," she pointed at the broad graying man, "is Kumaji Keitaro, this station's Captain and thus, your new superior. I am the Minato Ward Chief Constable, as I _Hope_ you have figured out by now-- You may call me Chief Akitori, or Boss."

Yuuki winced at the formal and distant appellation. Most _excellent_ first meeting, in_deed_.

"And this one here," she pointed at the psychotic little brat, who had crossed her arms in a childish pout, "is Kuga Natsuki, a HiME who helps the police due to… _extenuating circumstances_. She's also your new partner. Do _try _to get along."

Oh, a HiME. That explained where she got the guns---

...wait. Hold up. Partner?

Him and that psychotic trigger-happy little _brat_!

_**PARTNERS!**_

His hopes gave a strident scream as they were shot in the head repeatedly.

"...WHAT!"

-

**Akuma-sama's notes: **

Well, on the third try, I finally got this story started. The first book is planned in its entirety, and two more books are planned to be done. Everyone from the Mai HiME cast will eventually have a role (except maybe Alyssa… but she's in there _somewhere_), which means a _lot_ of people. Maybe I'll even manage to stick the Otome group in it, too.

At the moment, I have chapter 1 written completely, chapter 2 is underway and chapter 3's introduction has been written.

And before you yell at me for being nonsensical, there's actually an explanation, an actual divergence point, for HiMEs being common knowledge in _this_ version of the HiME world. Of course, being the teasing bastard that I am, I'll leave you hints (bigger or smaller) about it until I get around to explaining it for real. (Either book 2 or book 3, most likely the latter. At this point, book 2 and 3 can still be switched around, so…)

There's also a very damn good reason for Natsuki… which I'm not going to reveal _completely_ for a while. Or at least until I get to (_muffle, muffle_).

Final note: The ending couple will _probably_ be Shiznat, though don't expect much romance in _this_ book; Natsuki is 13, Shizuru is 14. Don't worry about Yuuki stealing Natsuki away.

**Special Thanks to Sebastian Palm for (admittedly minor) edits. **

**Japanese translations/puns: **

Please note that Japanese or oriental names used in the span of this story will be in the Asian order, namely (no pun intended), Family name first, then surname. Occidental names, however, will be said the regular way.

(1): Sakurazaki means Blooming Cherry Tree. Sakura-iro, however, means Cherry-colored (I.E.: light pink).

(2) Ookini is "Thank you" in Kansai Japanese.


	2. Chapter 1: White Wolf

-

The street was littered with a sea of pink and white petals, fallen from the branches of the nearly denuded Sakura trees that lined it. Birds chirped cheerful songs, perched on the branches alone or in pairs, filling the air with their joyous sounds. The early afternoon sun shone warmly, heating the bodies, minds and hearts of the passerby's walking in what had every sign of being a perfect spring day and a perfect start for Golden Week.

Sitting in the driver's seat of the patrol car currently stopped at a red light, Tanaka Yuuki could find little warmth in the sun's rays, or at least not enough to pull him out of his miserable mood. The cause of that mood was sitting on the passenger seat, her head barely reaching over the door window and her feet touching the car's ground only with the very end of her shoes.

He remembered how she had landed in this car, with him, like it was yesterday - an odd fact, considering they had met only a few hours ago.

If "met" was the right word; meetings didn't usually imply near-nudity and weapons being fired in his direction - or at least, not both at the same time.

-

-------------

-

"_WHAT_!"

Yuuki had been mildly surprised to hear the brat's voice shout right alongside his. It seemed like she hadn't been told about their partnership beforehand, either. She had been looking pleadingly with betrayed green eyes at the Chief with her hands pushing on the desk and her feet on her tiptoes, having stood up from her seat in her surprise.

"B-But I'm partnered with Kuma-jiji," the brat had protested in a somewhat whiny voice. (1) The Chief had shaken her head.

"Not anymore," the busty greenhead had said in the cold, serious tone that Yuuki was rapidly beginning to understand she used for everything. "If you haven't noticed, Kumaji is being promoted. His new position will take him away from actual busts or deal less directly with criminals, and more with harder to solve crime scenes and organizing the work of investigating officers. And while you've shown to be brilliant at catching runaways and scaring crooks into surrendering, you're only moderately useful in any other situation, since you haven't had any formal training."

"I can learn!" The brat had said, but it was obvious that even she had been seeing the train rapidly heading her way.

"You'd need to know at least basic forensics or criminology, and I'm not teaching a girl who is barely in middle school to tell how and when a body died, or how a thief or a murderer tends to think," Kumaji had spoken for the first time. The betrayed eyes had shone once more at the older officer, even more brightly than before. For a moment, Yuuki had been afraid she'd have a crying fit.

"Plus, his new job is one of authority, which he can accomplish easier if he doesn't look like he's babysitting," the chief had continued.

"I'm not a baby." Kuga had muttered, and as if to counter-prove her point, she had thrown her slight weight back down on her seat, crossed her small arms under her nonexistent chest and proceeded to sulk like the child she was.

"Excuse me," Yuuki had finally cut in, seeing an opening from where he could get out of this... _ridiculous _situation. "Are you sure you want a _twelve years old **kid**_ to follow me and try to catch criminals? Police work is _dangerous_." He had done his best to add emphasis on the important parts, to make them realize how stupid the idea was, but from the unconvinced looks in their eyes, it seemed his point hadn't registered.

"Thirteen." Yuuki had turned toward the little girl.

"Pardon?"

"I'm thirteen, not twelve," she had replied angrily, as if it was supposed to make a big difference to him. "And I'll have you know I've been helping for four years now, I _know_ this stuff."

_What, does she want to be my partner after all? _He had thought, and the way the girl's eyes had widened in horror told Yuuki she hadn't thought about what her words sounded like. Quickly, Yuuki had decided to go at it another way.

"What I mean," he had quickly told to the Chief before she could speak, "is that I'm going to have to look tough _too_, or criminals just won't take me seriously. I mean... Kumaji... just look at him, he could get away with it," the brawny, old officer had let a straight-lined left-sided amused smile cross his lips at this, "but me... well..."

"If you're afraid you won't look intimidating enough, don't be," Kumaji had said, amusement obvious in his voice, "Princess, when she wants, can be downright _terrifying_."

"HER!" He had gasped in bewilderment, pointing at the little girl; he had felt fairly certain he would have been able to pick her up and throw her with one arm. Her? Scary? Yeah right! She looked as terrifying as Hello Kitty!

As if sensing his thoughts, she had growled darkly - managing to sound like a big purring cat - and flexed her hands--

There had been a high-pitched whine, a _very familiar_ high pitched whine followed by twin flashes of light, and suddenly Yuuki had found himself staring down the HiME's two relatively small guns. He had raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, scary. I can just tell, somehow. Terrifying."

_ZAP-- _one of the guns fired a blast of light--

_**COLD! **_

The beam had impacted his arm, and immediately he had felt like he had dumped his arm down a bucket of icy water for a few minutes; although there were no external marks, he hadn't been able to feel anything below the mid-arm, where it had been shot. Kumaji and Chief Akatori had both stood up at this, and he had been _quite_ surprised when he saw that the Chief had actually raised her sidearm at the child's head.

"Last warning, Kuga. No Elements."

The girl had let out a defeated sigh and dispelled her guns for the second time that day. Both officers had slowly sat down, leaving Yuuki to wonder exactly _why_ he had ever wanted to leave his small village in Wakayama; Tokyoite police officer were obviously _nuts_.

"Alright, I've heard enough," the chief had said and got up at that point. "Kuga, Tanaka, you two will be partners for the next two weeks. If you can't get along by then, we'll switch you to someone else."

The thirteen years old kid had let out a hiss that sounded suspiciously like "_Yess_!" Tanaka agreed with the feeling, but remained silent, not wanting to test his luck. Beside, he'd been busy trying to get feeling back into his arm – it was coming back, though, at the speed of blood flow, bringing sharp icy pains as it did.

"If you _can_, however, you two will be together for the next couple of years, until something happens to disturb your partnership in a permanent or semi-permanent fashion." The two newfound partners had shared a look at that point; after frowning thoughtfully, the little girl had immaturely pulled her tongue at him, thus steeling his resolve.

It was only two weeks, and he wouldn't have to spend time with that brat ever again. He could live with that... he hoped.

"Now, as for the final point I'd like to approach... Kumaji, the key, if you'd please."

"Ah? You're giving him that, too?" she had gasped, one of her hands going straight to the odd black plastic collar around her neck. The chief had glared at her, making her shrink back into her seat uncomfortably. Kumaji had, by then, extracted something from his pocket; it looked like... a small remote control?

The Chief had picked it from his hand, given it a cursory look over before nodding in satisfaction. She had then handed it to Yuuki; it had been a simple device, a sleek, lightweight black plastic thing about as long as his palm with a green and a red button, both covered by separate glass covers, like those missile-launching buttons in fighter airplanes. It hadn't seemed that impressive, but from the way the little girl had been looking at it nervously, it was obviously something important for her.

Chief Akitori's explanation had shown just _how_ important it was.

"Tanaka, this is the controller for Natsuki's collar, also known as the control key," she had said _very_ seriously; there was no doubt in Yuuki's mind that there wasn't a hint of a joke in her words this time. "It has an effective range of 500 meters. The green button makes it flood her system with enough sleeping drugs to knock her out for a few days. The red one... let's just say it would deal with her in a very permanent, non-explosive way. If it's somehow destroyed, it'll act the same way as if you'd have pressed the red button; it's built tough enough to resist a good fall, but don't mess around with it. I don't expect you to have to use it, since she's usually well-mannered---"

_What the **FUCK**!_

"W-Wait," he had interrupted, "you're telling me this kid's collar is some kind of leash! Isn't that illegal or something? Why would she need one!"

"Control," Kumaji had been the one to answer, which he had done very clinically. "Princess here has enough firepower to level the building if she really lets loose. This is a crude solution and no one really likes it, but in the minds of some, it's better than letting her walk around unchecked."

"They don't know me," the brat had muttered while glaring at the Chief and Kumaji. "Can't you just keep it, Chief? I bet he'll drop it somewhere and someone will pick it up, or he'll break it somehow, stick it under a train wheel or something... or maybe he'll put them in his pants and drop _those _somewhere again," she added with a scowl in his direction; he scowled back. "In fact, I bet everything I've got saved that he will before the two weeks are out – it's not like I'll need money if he does."

"I will _not_," Yuuki had replied angrily.

"Shut up, _both of you_." the chief's furious voice had _not_ needed an 'or else' to be effective. "For today, you'll both be doing officer work. I don't want to hear any complaints from _either_ of you. Have I made myself clear or do I need to knock some sense into your heads?"

Understandably, both newfound partners had found themselves nodding nervously before either had noticed.

-

-------------

-

He sighed. Since they had set off on patrol, something he had been hoping he wouldn't have to do again after finally becoming a detective, the young girl hadn't stopped fidgeting with the plastic collar around her neck. It was about half an inch thick and loose enough to let her slide it up and down the length of her neck, but not above her chin. It didn't seem to have any feature other than a small silver hole in the back, mostly hidden by her hair; probably a keyhole of some kind, and most likely the only safe way to remove it from her.

He still felt like the thing was immoral, or an abuse of power, or an abuse of _something_ at least. He highly doubted Kumaji's appreciation of her power; he knew HiMEs were strong, he had seen the only HiME of his village cut a huge rock in half with her axe-Element before, yet, the little guns the girl had didn't seem to be _that_ powerful (he winced at a ghost pain in his now thawed, if cold, arm) or intimidating.

He felt queasy at the thought that he had, in his pocket, an object that could end that little girl's life with a push of a button.

**--BREEEP!--**

"Uh? Oh." The horn of a passing car made him realize that the red light had turned green a while ago, and that he'd been staring—

"Why the hell were you staring at me!"

"No reason," he replied quickly, stepping on the accelerator. He thought he saw the driver of the car behind give a sign of relief or of impatience through the mirror; it was obvious not just anyone was gutsy enough to honk at a police car.

"No reason my ass—Oh, I see… you really _are_ a pervert after all!" The little brat had said, pointing at him accusingly. "Well I warn you now; you try something and collar or not, I'll shoot you! And you'd better not be thinking of using the green button and…er… never mind, I didn't say a thing--"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He spluttered, glaring at her as soon as he made sure there was nothing dangerous in front.

"Oh, just your… shall we say, _special tastes_."

"I do _not_ have special tastes!"

"Yes you do! You were staring at me, thinking all kind of sick thoughts--"

"I wasn't!"

"Pervert! Pedophile! Child Molester!"

"_Shut up_!"

He had, in his pocket, a device that could end that little girl's life with the push of a button.

And it probably would take all of his self-control not to use it.

-

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**My**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**Disclaimer: **My HiME the anime belongs to sunrise and to many other creative geniuses who decided to put thirteen teenage (or wannabe teenage) girls through hell and back. My HiME the manga ALSO belongs to sunrise, but to some guy who decided Tate absolutely needed a harem. My mime belongs to someone, I think, but he's just gesticulating annoyingly over there and won't answer me when I ask him who, so whoever owns him, I'm sorry for whatever I did. Please take him back. Thank you.

**Special thanks to: **Sebastian Palm for post-posting corrections and future pre-reading .

**Chapter 1: White Wolf**

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-

"Take a right here."

"Hmm."

"Right, I said!"

"That's right—"

"That's _left_! See? 15th street, we should be seeing the 14th, _baka_." (2)

"Hm… and here's the 14th, just like it says on the map, _aho_." (3)

"Wh—but---what? It doesn't show the fifteenth… and—ah! That was the fourteenth _avenue_! Not street! And that… was… not on the right side either… um…"

"So where are we?"

"I…uh… I'm looking, I'm looking…"

Yuuki rolled his eyes; the brat was a pretty bad guide. But then, once open, the map containing their patrol route was easily wide enough to force her small arms open as wide as they could go, so she had something of an excuse.

Tokyo, he had quickly found, was huge. No, that was an understatement; Minato-ku made up less than tenth of its total area, and had various smaller police stations that limited the Headquarters' patrol area even further, yet the patrol they had been assigned to was so long that it would probably take them all afternoon to drive through.

He had a suspicion that the Chief had done this on purpose, to force them to get to know each other and get them to cooperate. However, he had learned only one thing about her so far, and it was that Kuga Natsuki, thirteen years old HiME, was an annoying, impolite and insolent _brat_.

Who couldn't read maps.

And about that, he hadn't even asked her to read the thing; she had picked it up and started guiding him (or started trying to) soon after they had stopped arguing on whether or not he really was a pedophile. The second time.

Yes, she _was_ insufferable. Unless she was doing it on purpose, which he was starting to think she _was_.

"Yashitobe street and Twelfth Avenue," he read out loud at the next corner. Almost immediately, he heard her search feverishly through the map, muttering curses and epithets that he was _sure_ she had picked up from Kumaji – they sounded like something a gruff man like that would say.

The effect was somehow less impressive in her lilting thirteen years old voice.

"Oh, I see… um… we're off course," the brat concluded solemnly soon after. Yuuki rolled his eyes.

"No shit—er… I mean--"

"I've heard worse," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Take a left now, and don't stop until… um… Tengawa or Amakawa, there's no Furigana here…" (4)

"Ooh, you still need Furigana?" he teased. "For a word as simple as Tengawa?"

"S-Shut up!" He _heard_ the angry blush on her face. "I bet it's Amakawa."

It turned out to be Tengawa, as he had thought (something he couldn't help but rub her nose in – it was good to finally get a shot at her, no matter how insignificant). It was a commercial boulevard, with small shops lining both sides of the two-lane-plus-parking street and a raised garden of dead, yet-to-be-replanted flowers and a row of somewhat sickly looking Ginko trees in the middle – this place probably stank of them in autumn.

There was a panel hanging above the streetlight at the corner, indicating the highway was to the right. Deciding to take the slow road just in case he messed up – turning around on the highway was much more troublesome than in a Boulevard, after all – he twisted the wheel and sent the car in a left turn—

"Right! Argh! You're going the wrong way again!" the brat immediately stepped in.

"You didn't tell me which way to go!" He snapped back.

"What, I need to tell you everything now!"

"You're the one holding the map, _brat_!"

"I thought it was obvious! Look ahead, you can see the headquarters' antenna!"

He did; the antenna in question, however, remained so well hidden behind a wall of white-concrete buildings, utility poles, low-hanging electric cables and other metropolitan features that the village-dweller wasn't used to ignoring, that the so-called _obvious_ remained a mystery.

"Oh, and I'm supposed to _see_ it!"

"It's _obvious_!" she repeated, pointing at something (obviously forgetting that his point of view wasn't hers) and rolling her eyes. "And you call yourself a detective. How did you get promoted out of cadet, anyway? You slept with the boss?"

"The boss was a bald fifty years old man with a beer gut," he replied flatly.

She made an impressed whistle. "Women, illegally young girls, and now ugly old men. You sure get around, I'm almost insulted—"

"Oh _shut **up**_," he grumbled. The end of his patience with her was just about reached.

She rolled her eyes as if he was the one being immature, folded up the map, put it back on the dashboard and resumed to staring moodily out the window. He did the same, while trying to find a place where he could do a U-turn.

Window-mounted advertisement panels assaulted him from beyond the Ginkos, brightly proclaiming the greatness of the wares inside the shop ("Supigumono: softest pillows and mattresses available here for the lowest price!", "Megame optometrists: See the world anew; prescription glasses for 20,000¥!", "FiRE armory: Fully legal Photon disruption rifles, discount at 90 000¥; permit renewal for 10,000¥!"). The people on the street were, if not more interesting, at least not as offensive—for the most part. That fat, snout-nosed woman with girly pigtails wearing neon-green and fushia-pink was almost as flashy and tasteless as the swimsuit ad poster glued to the window she was walking in front of.

Most of the others were much more normal, like the nondescript young man wearing a leather jacket, black pants and a cap, or the pretty woman carrying a handbag, clad in a knee-length tight skirt that was obviously either on her way to or on the way back from an important rendezvous—

And who suddenly found herself nearly knocked aside as the aforementioned man burst into a run and shoved her aside, both of his hands closing around the aforementioned handbag—

Hey, hey, wait a minute!

Yuuki stomped his foot on the brakes ("The hell?" went the brat; she would probably have rammed her head against the dashboard had she been just a few inches taller), opened his door and was out and running over the dead flowers before the woman had stopped screaming.

"What the—oh, I see." He barely heard his "partner's" reaction as he jumped over the inch-tall row of stones that framed the garden, intent on intercepting the thief before he—

**--SKREE!--**

"What the _fuck_?"

The sound of breaking tires and the shout from the suddenly stopped car's driver attracted the thief's attention. Seeing a police officer heading barreling straight for him through the street while ignoring the traffic, he sped up and at the first alley, he quickly ran in, pushing a businessman out of his path and into a mother and her child as he did.

Yuuki cursed and quickly followed. Somewhere behind him, he heard a high-pitched shout and something of a commotion, but paid it no heed in his focus.

Maybe it was just a thief, but how many officers could say they caught a criminal red-handed on their first patrol after a transfer? Besides, if he showed his worth right away, they might decide he was good enough to be pulled out of this farce and away from his bad joke of a partner.

However, the chase quickly turned sour; the alley he was running in turned out to be one of those older, tightly packed residential areas, where buildings had been built too close to one another for a real street to be built. Not only that, but it also seemed like this was one of those areas that had fallen to poverty, despite (or perhaps _because_ of) its proximity to a heavily commercial street. It was, therefore, a maze of dark, dingy alleys, filled with litter and junk, with the occasional trash can that the thief wasted no time to upturn in his wake in hopes to trip Yuuki.

The thief didn't just pick paths at random; he ignored some, took others, visibly had cues and seemed to have at least _some_ idea of where they were (Yuuki had lost himself after the third turn) and thus, it was easy to tell he knew the area. He was also faster, since the cop was weighed down by his equipment, and he only had the stolen handbag in his hands. Yuuki was slower, less prepared, didn't know the area and, above all, _without real backup_; it was becoming painfully obvious that even if he was able to catch up to him, he would have to fight him to have a chance at cuffing him. And tired as he felt already, he was fairly sure the thief had a good fighting chance.

His legs burning as he pushed himself over the seventh upturned can – thankfully this one had been empty – Yuuki felt the urge to give up become increasingly strong. At the next corner, the thief ducked right and Yuuki knew this would be it; he couldn't run anymore. With a disgusted sigh, he slowed down—

**_--"ARGHHHH!"--_**

The _fuck_!

Pushing himself with the last of his energy, he quickly turned the next corner and stumbled on a most _strange_ scene. The thief was there, sitting on the pavement, his hat having fallen off his head and laying upside-down between his trembling legs, his wide black eyes staring straight ahead at—

**-gulp-**

--at what appeared to be some kind of robotic wolf standing at waist level on its four metal clawed legs. Perhaps its most intimidating feature, beyond the full row of menacing serrated metal teeth in its mouth, was the pair of huge revolver-like cannons on its back; just one of them was wide and long enough to comfortably stick a whole arm inside. Yuuki noted idly that it was blocking the only way out of the place, except the path behind him; the other side of the alley was blocked by a chain-link fence topped by barbed wires.

"I suggest you surrender," the brat's matter-of-fact voice came from above- the little bluette had somehow perched herself sitting on the railing of a fire escape on the third and top floor of the closest apartment building, short skinny legs dangling in mid-air. "Durhan here hates what I hate, and thieves like you score among the lowest scum of the earth, in my opinion."

The wolf, Durhan, took a threatening step forward and growled menacingly; it sounded like a powerful engine rumbling in a voice changer. Yuuki noted the tip of its tail reflected the sun's light like a blade; he decided he didn't feel curious enough to check if it was one, but it wouldn't have surprised him.

What **was** that thing, and where had the brat found it!

"_Princess, when she wants, can be downright **terrifying**_," Kumaji had said. If that wolf came in the same package as her, he was suddenly starting to believe it.

"And what he doesn't like, well… there usually isn't enough left to be incriminating," the brat continued cheerfully; Yuuki wasn't entirely sure she was joking. The thief wasn't either, it seemed, for he quickly picked himself up and, with a panicked sound, ran for the only exit—

Yuuki had barely enough wits left to catch him as he tried to run by. The thief winced audibly as his arm was painfully twisted in a solid armlock that sent him to his knees.

"I suggest you give up quietly. I just met her, so I can't assure if you she's kidding or not," Yuuki said semi-calmly.

"A-Alrigh', I'll—I'll—jus'-…keep that **thing** _away_ from me!"

"Aww, you'll hurt his feelings!" the brat said with a grin in her voice as she pushed herself off the railing--

**_The third floor railing---!_**

--and landed seemingly effortlessly from a six meter fall on the metal wolf's back; it bent its legs sharply at _exactly_ the right moment and absorbed her impact, showing no sign of surprise or strain.

"Oh well," she continued with apparent disappointment, "looks like Durhan won't get to blow anyone to dust today." She grinned cheerfully and gave the wolf's metal head a pat as the thief whimpered, "Pity you surrendered."

-------------

"Oh, thank you so _much_! You have no idea—I'd have been in so much trouble if… did he—no, it looks like everything's there… oh, I can't thank you enough…"

"Oh, it was no problem, really," he replied.

Normally, Yuuki would have replied those words, or something along the lines of this, adding about doing his duty and whatnot, loudly, heroically and with a winning smile addressed to the lady in question. However, this time, they were said in a dark mutter, with a scowl and a dark glare at the thankful lady and the little girl in the squad car's side mirror.

He had been so busy putting the very, very cooperative thief in his squad car that he hadn't noticed when the little brat had picked up the stolen handbag and gave it back to whom it rightfully belonged. Of course, this meant she was on the receiving end of the woman's thanks and smiles, while he couldn't go up there without looking like an idiot with skewed priorities leaving a criminal alone in the car to get his thanks.

…which _would_ have been what he would have done, actually.

"It was no problem, really," she replied with a grin, "just helping Oji—_Oniisan_ out. He _really_ needs help, see." (5)

_Oh, **thanks**._ _Damn brat. _

"Ara… well… are you… I mean… I know you HiMEs are tough, but… "

She gave the worried woman a small, wistful smile; he _felt_ her aura of adorability increase exponentially (although, in his mind, an infinity of times 0 still wasn't much).

"It's dangerous and scary, but it's better than staying home…" she said sadly, in a tone that hinted to all kinds of horrors. Yuuki blinked. What was _that_?

"Oh, you poor thing!" And she tightly hugged the little brat in a motherly fashion. He raised a puzzled eyebrow, wondering what exactly was happening to the evil brat he'd been around all day long...

…then saw the brat's face through the mirror; she was grinning his way, and it wasn't a nice grin. It was the grin of someone saying "See what you're missing?" in their most condescending voice. He seethed.

"Oi, Kuga!" He called through the open window, ignoring the glares this brought him from the spectators of the so-called touching scene.

"Ah… Hai, Oniisan," she said dejectedly in a high-pitched voice that left no ambiguity as to her young age, as she was released from the woman's arms. With a final sad smile at the woman and the crowd, she went back toward the patrol car, opened the passenger door and snuck in seemingly reluctantly on her seat, as if she was only doing this to calm the anger of her 'oniisan'. As soon as her face was out of sight, though, that grin reappeared.

"I hate you," he told her flatly as he started the engine.

"My poor world is ending," she deadpanned. With a soft rumble, the patrol car set forward, to the relief of the few drivers who had been stuck behind it; it and a parked van had been blocking the way. He gave a nod at the woman (who glared hatefully back at him; he winced), then—

"This is Princess to station," the little girl had picked up the radio emitter and was talking into it, "ten…um… ten-twen…um, we caught a thief."

"_Station to Princess, ten-four,"_ replied a highly tonal female voice. _"We'll get a cell ready. By the way, you were thinking of ten-twenty-six, you should practice more. Nice work as always."_

"Ten-four, thank you." And she put it back down. At his querying raised eyebrow, she shrugged. "I _did_ say I've been doing this for a while. Kumaji let me do it whenever it was nothing really important, but I never _did _to memorize all the codes. Oh, that reminds me, why did you wait so long?"

"Wait?"

"Back then, in the alley, I mean... Kumaji would have come up to that asshole ("Hey!" protested the thief from the back seat, and was ignored) and cuffed him before he even could move, but you waited until he jumped at you-"

"I was kinda just as surprised as he was?" Yuuki grumbled. "Where did you get the wolf, anyway?"

("Hey, wait, y' mean that part 'bout just meetin' her was real!" the thief asked. He was ignored once more)

When he didn't receive an answer at the next stop sign, he risked a look at her. She was staring blankly at him, a look in her eyes being comparable to the one found in a computer technician being told someone wanted to try and run Half-life 2 on a Pentium 1. "You... how much do you know about HiMEs?" she asked hesitatingly.

"Nothing much," Yuuki replied distractedly, taking the car on a right turn that sent them on a main street. "I know you can create stuff out of nothing, that those weapons are pretty much the only things that work against Orphans, and you can see a weird star near the moon that not even high-tech equipment can spot, and that you're all women ("_or little brats_," he added mentally), but nothing else, I think."

("Oh god, I've been caught by the village idiot." _Fortunately_, he was ignored once more (though Yuuki could have sworn the brat's mouth curved upward in an almost-grin for a fraction of second).)

"Ok then, here's a crash course about HiMEs," she took a deep breath, then started. "HiMEs started to be born all around the world about fifty-five years ago, and the very first _real _HiME was crowned about ten years later, around the same time Orphans started to pop-up. The--"

"Crowned?" Yuuki interrupted. She rolled her eyes, as if wondering just how _little_ he actually knew.

"That's the word for when a HiME's powers first awakens; a pun on the whole 'HiME/Princess' bit, though crowned HiMEs aren't called Queens," she explained with a hint of impatience. "Now, like you said, we can create our weapons, or Elements, from light around us - don't ask me how, I don't know. That's actually where the HiME name comes from, it's an Anagram of... um... a bunch of English words I can't remember right now."

"Highly-advanced Materializin' Element," the thief supplied. He received a pair of glares for his efforts, and quickly shirked back, as if wishing he could vanish _inside_ the seat. "Sorry, shuttin' up."

The brat turned back toward the cop. "Right, that. I don't know who thought about _that _wordplay, but I'm hoping he got shot and left in a ditch somewhere and was awarded a Darwin for his efforts. Or at least whoever shot him did. As for our other power, it's even stronger than our Elements: by using the feelings we have for our keys, we can summon--"

"W-wait, key?"

The brat shot him a dark glare - had it been attached to a more fearsome face, perhaps it would have impressed him, or at least perhaps it wouldn't have made her look like a pouting child. He shrugged.

"Ok, staying quiet, despite any other questions I might have. I bow to your superior teaching techniques."

"As you should," she said haughtily - her lilting voice ruined the effect. "And to answer your question, a HiME's Key is the single most important person for her. Usually, the key is the HiME herself; no matter what, the cold hard truth is that while good friends would put their lives on the line for each other, the instinctive response is to get _yourself_ out of danger _first_."

"But you said usually," he noted. She nodded.

"If a HiME cares about someone to the point that she simply couldn't live without that person - if she _really_ falls in love - then that person becomes the key. Oh, and family ties don't seem to count, unless they're… uh… ins… inces…truous. Satisfied?"

"That's Incest_uous_, and yeah," he replied affirmatively, ignoring her dark glare at being corrected. "So what does the key do, and where does the wolf come into it?"

"The key unlocks the true power of a HiME, the ability to summon a powerful creature devoted completely to protecting the HiME and doing her bidding: the Child. You've met mine, Durhan, already," she replied with a grin; it was obvious to him that she _liked_ her Child.

"And it's because of... um... your Child, that the Chief decided to stick that collar around your neck?" He risked himself; the question _did_ burn at his curiosity.

Her grin froze. One of her hands gave a small tug to the aforementioned collar and her entire body language spoke of unease. He had obviously stumbled on a sensitive subject.

"...Among other things," she replied evasively. Yuuki felt that pushing further would get him to meet Durhan again at very close quarters, so he didn't ask.

The rest of the trip was very silent indeed.

-

-

**Akuma-sama's notes: **

I use a mix between the Manga and the Anime, as well as a bit of interpretation from both sources and a little creativity on my own, for the HiMEs' powers. Hey, it's an alternate universe fanfic, so I can do pretty much what I want.

Rough ending that I'm not satisfied with, but adding a scene after would be awkward and counterproductive.

I would like to express my undying hatred for ongoing war against symbols. I want my Asterisks, damnit! And while they're at it, bring back Colors, Links and text sizes while they're at it, I'm tired of seeing the Mai InfinitiME title in a wimpy 10-size font…

**I apologize for the number of OCs; there will be more HiME characters shortly, but this book unfortunately doesn't involve many of them. And no, I could not use HiME characters for the OC's parts; I'll be using them later. **

**Translations: **

(1) Kuma-jiji means, roughly, "old bear" or "Grampa bear".

(2) Baka, for the few who don't know I'm sure, means "idiot".

(3) Aho ALSO means idiot, but it's in Kansai-ben. Baka, in Kansai-ben, is very mean, and more along the lines of "complete and total moron".

(4) Both Tengawa and Amakawa can be written with the same Kanji ((Heaven/mystic), (River)), and Furigana is the pronunciation of a Kanji word written in one of the phonetic writings, usually used by Children, or to force it to be read a certain way, or even to write a foreign word while using Kanji (Like, writing "Akuma" in Kanji, with the Furigana "De-Bi-Ru" for Devil; it would _mean_ "devil" to a Japanese, but would be read in English. Or, the other way around, it can be used to write English words in Japanese (by direct Katakana reading, or by Kanji/Hiiragana alliteration)). Just wrote a small article, yay.

(5) Oniisan is "big brother", respectfully. Ojisan, which she'd been about to slip, means "uncle".


	3. Chapter 2: Missing Greens

Every time Tanaka Yuuki was presented to a new facet of the piece of pyrite that his new partner had turned out to be, it seemed to be a negative one. First, he had found that, while she was indeed as female as he had hoped, she was about as unsuitable a partner as could be, seeing as she was only thirteen years old. He had then found out she was a loudmouth and a brat who seemed to enjoy pissing him off like nothing else.

To top it up, he had then learned she was a HiME, and that, with her Child, Durhan, she was both scarier and better at catching criminals than him.

Therefore, he felt that he really should have anticipated the bad surprise he'd been given that morning, when he'd come to the station to learn he was supposed to go and fetch her at the place she lived at.

Every morning, from now on.

Or at least until those damnable two weeks were up. (Was it really _only_ the second day?)

It seemed that everything about her existed for the sole purpose of pissing him off.

-

The _Himeno Kojiin_, Himeno Orphanage, was a cozy-looking two stories tall building of modern occidental architecture that somewhat looked like a small school like those back home. Its walls were made of brown bricks and pierced by clean, unbarred sliding windows. The dark brown front door was accessible by a cement path framed by a well kempt lawn and a row of burgeoning lilacs growing along the sidewalk and providing some privacy, though the intersection the two paths was framed by a pair of tall, leafless trees that he couldn't identify.

Sitting at the foot of one of the aforementioned tall trees, a teenager with a thick pair of round glasses who was most likely one of the tenants looked up from the novel she had been reading (the cover page seemed to bear a warring states era couple a embracing in front of a grove of blooming Sakuras) as he slowed the patrol car to a stop in front of the path. She calmly inserted a bookmark in the pages, as if having a police car parking itself in front of their residence was something perfectly normal and to be expected – but then, it probably was, considering who they lived with – stood and headed up the path. By the time Yuuki had cut the engine and got out of the car, the girl had already reached the door and was opening it.

"Natsuki," he heard her shout, "Your ride's here!"

So, he stayed near the driver door of the patrol car. The glass-wearing girl, whom he estimated to be aged around fifteen, did not seem surprised to see someone new was fetching the brat; either the guys at the station usually cycled and had… _volunteered_ him to do it today, or, more likely, she had told them about him. He _did_ notice and recognize the appreciative glance she gave him, though, having seen it in other women's eyes before.

There was movement at the door and the girl moved aside to let two girls walk past her. He recognized the first easily, as she was the one he was supposed to fetch – she was wearing a blue kangaroo hoodie and dark blue jeans today, he noticed. The second, however, struck him as odd, though for a reason that escaped him at first.

She seemed to be a little older than then bluette, but not by much; maybe a year at most. Her hair was wavy and light brown, her face was pleasant to look at, if too young, and while she was dressed surprisingly conservatively in a somewhat too small pinkish-white Yukata, there was no doubt in his mind that the girl would grow up to be a looker.

Pity he was probably ten years older than her.

As she looked up at him, though, one detail jumped to his eyes; hers, actually. They were one of those kinds of eyes that could express both amusement and disapproval at the same time, or complete the perfect poker face and conceal everything hidden beneath. And perhaps even stranger, they were bright _red_; he had never seen eyes that color before.

He analyzed her walk and found it to be peculiar as well; the gracefulness she showed was something he had seen before, while investigating on a theft in a remote Wakayamaan mansion; the house's mistress, a traditional near-_Yamato Nadeshiko_, had shown similar poise. (1) This was something found in the upper ranks of society, and for a young girl like her to show that could only mean she was a rich daughter.

Strange that a girl like that would wind up in an orphanage.

Strange… Yes, that was what had bothered him. Why would a rich daughter end up in a little orphanage like this one? Usually, a family like hers would have had contingency plans in case her parents die, to hand her to a relative or have a maid or someone to raise and care for her… It was a mystery, if an unimportant one, and as a detective, he had immediately latched on to it.

They were approaching, though, and while the brat was looking as unpleasantly moody as yesterday, the brunette was actually smiling at him. Deciding to return courtesy with more of the same, he smiled back.

"_Maido_," he greeted in his Kansai dialect. The girl's red eyes widened in a surprise he couldn't explain until she spoke next. (2)

"_Gokigenyou_," she returned pleasantly, "_uchi wa Fujino Shizuru dosu. Keikan-san wa?_" (3)

Oh, ho! A fellow Kansaijin! (4) He let a grin draw itself on his face, which grew when he heard the brat groan in apparent agony and mutter "shit…" in a pained voice.

"I'm Tanaka Yuuki. Her… well, her partner, for now."

She nodded in acceptance with no surprise; apparently, the brat _had_ told them about him. Her question must have been sheer formality; she was _definitely_ a genuine _Ojousama. _

"Your accent is… south coast, I believe?" She asked.

"Kii peninsula," he précised. "And yours is _yahari Kyoto dosu._" (5)

"_Se ya_," she replied affirmatively with a demure chuckle in her voice. (6)

"I should have known they'd hit it off…" the brat muttered, bumping her forehead against the car's side window, which she was only tall enough to reach the middle of.

"Is the fact that his accent is similar to mine the reason why he annoys you so, Natsuki?" Her voice was innocent, but there was a subtle hint of teasing in it that made the bluette bristle visibly.

"N-No! He's an ignorant pervert, that's why! I told you that."

Yuuki opened his mouth to protest, but the red-eyed girl disarmed him simply by looking honestly downcast and replying, much less honestly,

"And here I believed it was because you now always have a reminder of me in your presence… I'm so disappointed; I was hoping I flustered you more than this."

"Ah—_Yamero_, Shizuru!" (7) The bluette snapped, her ears crimson. Her friend chuckled at her discomfiture, then bowed respectfully in his direction.

"Please take care of her," she said. "She acts like she is twice her size sometimes; we all worry about her."

"Mou, Shizuru, stop it already… and you're not that much bigger than me, by the way."

Ignoring the now red-faced girl, the red-eyed girl continued, "If it would not be inopportune, I would like to invite you for tea later today, after you both have accomplished your duties. I am certain Fumi-obaasan, the administrator, would be delighted to meet you." (8)

"Er," he hesitated, before shaking his head negatively. His politeness didn't extend to the point of spending more time than needed with the brat. "Thank you, but I… uh… I'll be dreadfully busy later," he half-lied; he still had stuff to unpack back home, but nothing pressing that he couldn't put to another day.

It was obvious the brunette didn't believe him, but politeness obliged she didn't press further. "Then I will just have to reinstate my request another day," she said in deject that did not entirely seem real. "A pity, I am certain you would have appreciated a chance to dispel the rumors Natsuki spread about you last evening. I would have even shown you the best ways to embarrass her, had you been as kind as to ask."

"Shizuru!" The blushing bluette appeared to be in the opinion that the older girl was doing entirely too much of that at that very moment. He chuckled; she shot him a dirty look over the car's roof (though he was certain she had to stand on her tiptoes to do that). "Let's go already, Tanaka," she finally said _quite_ transparently to change the subject, while opening the door and sliding in the car. "We'll be late and the Chief will yell at us."

"Can't have that," he agreed, sharing an amused look with the other Kansaijin. Yuuki got on his seat, gave the girl a final wave over the roof and shut the door before starting the car's engine.

"I like your friend," he announced with a smirk.

"Don't get any ideas," was her sour answer.

Ok, so maybe not _everything_ about her was out to piss him off.

-

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**My**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**-**

**Disclaimer: **My HiME doesn't belong to me. If it did, it would have had a real fight between Miyu and Mikoto, and would have probably ended Shakespeare-style by having Mikoto getting her head chopped off, thus Mai getting the greensparkle treatment, thus screwing up the Obsidian Lord's plan completely by leaving _no_ available HiME to control the star. A much better ending than "HiME Sentai, attack!", in my opinion, even if it leaves a sense of "…well, fuck. Now what."

…on second thought, maybe it's a good thing I don't own My HiME…

**-**

**Chapter 2: Missing Greens**

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Take a right here!"

"Ok, hang on!"

Lights flashing and siren blaring like the priority vehicle that it was, the patrol car took the corner with screeching wheels, much like a race car. Witnesses would have guessed it was hastily heading for some dastardly noteworthy crime and would be sorely disappointed to hear no mention of such during the evening news.

The truth was, the destination of the one and a half detectives had not become a crime scene yet. However, it had every possibility of becoming one; it all depended on their making it there in time.

"How much time left?"

"Um… one and a half!"

"Shiiit!"

"Language—"

"You've heard worse!"

Unusually, though, they were not hoping to be on time to stop the criminal from actually earning the appellation, but to remove the motive from under the crime. Now, normally, the police wouldn't be aware of a criminal's motives before he or she even committed the crime, but this was a special case. The pair inside the patrol car knew who the potential criminal was, and they knew the victims better than anyone else.

And being late was not an excuse for justifiable homicide, no matter what the very respectable Minato Ward Chief Constable and potential murderer had to say about it. Her opinion on the matter would not protect her from justice. Thus, it was for her sake (and more importantly, theirs as potential figurative murder victims) that they _had_ to make it to the station on time. However, time was fading rapidly—

"Fifty seconds!"

"We're almost there—argh, that blasted _gate_!"

Thirty seconds were left by the time the patrol car stopped sharply in front of the electronic-controlled barrier that blocked access to the Police Headquarters' parking lot. The adult hastily lowered his window to show his police ID to the notoriously dysfunctional and stubborn scanner (although he had now idea it was _notoriously_ bad, just that it made him look like a fool yesterday in front of a forcefully quiet thief and a brat of a partner who had unfortunately no qualms about laughing at him), while the young teen---

"I'll go on ahead," she said while untying her seatbelt and opening her door in the same movement.

"O-Oi, wait—" a sharply closing door was his answer. "Damnit!"

…abandoned ship like a brat-sized rat.

The scanner informed him twice that his card was invalid – "I'll _show _you invalid, you damn piece of _junk_!" – before changing its inexistent mind and activating the barrier. He was through before it had even finished raising completely; he was fairly sure the roof of his car had been scratched in the process.

He easily found a parking spot halfway through the lot and slid in so fast his wheels screeched when he stopped.

Let us consider the following situation. Subject A, a thirteen years old girl, sets off across the parking lot, running at a speed that began at approximately fifteen kilometers an hour to follow a descending parabolic trend on a said equation. Subject B, twenty-four years old man, starts fifteen seconds later, gets halfway across the lot at a speed of forty-two kilometers and then, after a two and a half second pause, continues in a run at approximately twenty kilometers an hour.

Who gets there first?

Nature had this wonderful way of not caring about mathematics. It also had this wonderful way of not caring about linguistics, either, which was probably the most likely reason why it couldn't show anyone how to reach the conclusion that both arrived at the same time. Of course, if you had asked either of the two subjects involved, the answer would have been a unanimous "me".

The doors were forcefully pulled away – the girl's notably more slowly - from their path as both of them burst in the waiting room like all hell was loose and after them. Which, actually, wasn't the truth, as hell was just barely contained and _definitely_ in front of them.

…in fact, it was in front of them, right behind a meek-looking receptionist, and staring at them with stormy eyes. He felt more than saw the brat use his body to partially cover herself from the deadly glare.

"And there they come, two seconds ahead of time," the Chief said coldly with a sideway glance at the clock. "I want to see both of you in my office." And she left through the way leading deeper in the administration, leaving the pair wheezing and staring at where she had been, and Haruko looking at them apologetically.

"She's in a _bad_ mood… someone forgot to fill yesterday's notice for the coffee machine, so it's empty; she's been on tea all morning." The receptionist explained, leaving Yuuki quite puzzled. "Add to it yesterday's incident, that missing girl and the security detail for the Princess Week Commemoration next month and… well…" The brat winced.

"We're fucked," she concluded. The receptionist nodded, before noticing Yuuki was sporting a somewhat bemused look on his face.

"Chief Akitori _needs_ caffeine to be awake in the morning, and she _hates _tea," she explained. "The last time she spent a day drinking tea, she managed to make Kumaji hide from her, make a Yakuza goon squeal like a pig and make Princess cry – and that's harder than you'd think."

The little bluette shuddered at the memory. "And she wants us to go in her office. We're fucked, I say."

"Then we should go before she gets even more pissed," Yuuki said, to which the little girl agreed hesitatingly. Perhaps things would work out if they stayed really, really quiet, obedient and let her lose her steam?

-

It turned out to be wishful thinking, as she seemed to have as much steam as a submerged volcano; under the influence of deceptively inconspicuous tea leaves, the chief proved to go from the raging tiger on the prowl that she normally was to some kind of evil, loud creature that would make an ancient dragon pale in terror, or at least Step Past Out Of Clear Revulsion. After letting them inside the figurative maw that was her office, she had then proceeded to chew them up about very, _very_ nearly being late, then spat them out of her office; Yuuki, feeling much like a man who had just faced a dozen Chthonian creatures simultaneously and had been soundly defeated, had somewhat understood the reason why he and the much shaken brat were sitting in the lounge afterward.

They were to remain idle until the next case would open up; unlike officers, detectives' jobs tended to last for a few days at the least, and their partnership being what it was (in other words, as dysfunctional as a house entirely built with similarly charged magnets), their bumping in a case that was already being handled by another team would have done nothing but hamper, and there were no pending cases that were unimportant enough for them to test themselves.

Perhaps this was another of the Chief's plans to make them get to know each other, like the patrol yesterday - or perhaps simple tea-induced spite was to blame - but waiting did nothing to bring them close to each other. By the time they had somewhat recovered from their meeting with Chief Asmod--um, Akitori, the brat had picked herself a young woman's magazine and was reading it disinterestedly, and he had found himself looking around, spotting the details he hadn't spotted in his previous (admittedly short and eventful) visit in the room.

Looking at the differences between the panels that covered the ceiling was, he decided after a few seconds, a perfectly boring activity. After a few minutes, he found himself dearly wishing he had spent a few minutes to unpack his computer and MP3 player, so he could have had something, _anything_, to distract him. A quick search through the magazines in the basket near the notably empty coffee machine had turned up nothing more interesting than a copy of _Otome Weekly_, a lesbian manga magazine, and while he had already been branded as a pervert by his partner, there was no need to prove her point to her and the others in the station.

Besides; the cover was covered by the tackiest shade of pink he had ever seen.

About the others, he quickly found the station was quite active; the few clerks who wandered from cubicle to cubicle, or to and fro the archives, were too busy to do anything more than toss him a nod while passing - and, in one particular, mousy, blonde and busty example called E-something (he hadn't had the occasion to ask yet), squeak and scamper back to the archives, only to come back a while later and _pointedly_ avoiding turning her blushing face toward him. Most of the conversations were about work, as could be expected…

"_Any problems keeping the vultures off the case?" _

"_No, it was easy. We managed to make them look the other way by simply telling them we often get missing people false alarms from parents about girls her age being out late without warning anyone." _

A relieved sigh, _"It's a good thing they didn't ask her parents, they'd have learned that girl was the class rep-type…" _

…but seeing as he almost never caught their start and had no idea what most of them were about it wasn't enough to keep him occupied. Besides, he wasn't an eavesdropper by nature.

Occasionally, an officer would come in, but they usually left in short order; apparently, _everyone_ seemed to have noticed the coffee machine, and as the good policemen they were, hadn't taken long to guess the mood the chief would be, and thus made themselves as scarce as they could.

A few hours sped past at the speed of lethargic snails, and by the time noon came, Yuuki was starting to wish for a distraction to any god or deity he could remember ever hearing about. And it came, in the form of a cleanly-shaved, thin-eyed man just slightly taller than him, wearing an officer uniform bearing the Lieutenant Insignia and square half-rimmed glasses, with short-cropped dark brown hair, who entered the lobby from the waiting room with a report in his hand, to hand down to the Archives. When he noted Yuuki, though, a small smile drew itself on his face.

"Oh, you're the new guy, aren't you?" At Yuuki's confirming nod, he continued, "I'd like to be the first to congratulate you for your bravery, yesterday - it takes balls to sneak in the girls' locker room. It was just bad luck Princess was the one to find you; I assure you no one else would have raised a gun to shoot you. Well, maybe the boss."

"Bad luck my ass, Ishigami," the brat said, still looking in her magazine.

"Language, Princess," 'Ishigami' scolded. To Yuuki's surprise, Kuga "I've heard worse" Natsuki actually fidgeted in her seat, and while there wasn't a spoken apology, it was there to be felt in her body language. The other man seemed to be satisfied with that. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I?" he asked, and didn't wait for an answer before continuing, "I am Lieutenant Ishigami Wataru, which means I take orders from you on the scene. Nice to meet you," he added with a pleasant smile, which Yuuki returned.

"Tanaka Yuuki," he replied, "and for the record, yesterday was an unfortunate accident."

The brat snorted loudly while turning a page - she was ignored.

"Accident, maybe, but what an accident it could have been--" before Yuuki could move, Ishigami had an arm around his shoulders and was waving at the blank wall like one would a beautiful work of art, "Imagine if Ichidouji-chan-- you know, the shy brunette in the Archives? Blonde, cuddly and busty... ah, you see who I mean, now – now imagine if she'd been changing at the time? Or even the _chief_!"

"She'd have _killed_ me!" Yuuki exclaimed ("Pity she wasn't, then," the brat muttered, and was ignored again).

"Maybe, but you'd have died a happy man." Ishigami replied with a shrug, as if the assuredly agonizing death was an unimportant detail unworthy of attention.

"He would have died shot repeatedly in the arms and legs, stuffed with pens from both ends, cut open with a spoon and hung from the roof of this building by his entrails. I would _hardly_ call that happy," came a cold, serious voice that _killed_ their conversation in the aforedescribed way; the Chief had obviously heard as she had been walking toward them, down the cubicle-framed path that led to the stairway from where the administrative section of the second floor, and thus her office, was accessible. Ishigami rapidly turned tail and headed for the exit door.

"Ah… well, it's been fun seeing you, but duty calls—Tanaka-san, Princess—" and the door cut him off with a soft click and a soundproof-muffled "-chan", leaving the irate Chief alone with Yuuki – Natsuki made _very _sure she was _profoundly _busy in her lecture, and seemed to appear to be trying to hide her small body behind the much smaller glossed paper cover.

"Just so you know, if anyone else decides to take a page from your book and sneak in our changing room, your ass will be on the grill right alongside theirs, Tanuki." (9)

Now that just wasn't fair, he decided. But before he could protest, the brat had burst out in a loud laugh.

"Big-balled Tanaka Yuuki: Tanuki—Perfect. Nice one, Ch—er…" The latter was delivered after the thirteen years old found herself the recipient of a very cold short-tempered glare. As much as he disliked his partner, he had no wish to see the boss make her cry (mostly because he didn't doubt for a second who would be drafted to calm her afterward, and despite the receptionist's earlier assurance that making her cry was supposedly hard to do). A quick glance at the clock gave him a way out of this problem.

"Chief, we're taking our lunch break," he said, pointing at the clock (and doing his best not to flinch when the glare was returned his way). The brat caught on right away and quickly got up.

"Good, I'm starving," she said with a nervous glance at the chief, who gave a loud sigh and softened visibly at their transparent bid for safety.

"Sorry, I guess I _am_ being pretty awful today," she apologized. The little girl waved her hand dismissively.

"Don't worry, you're no worse than... um... uh..." her thoughtful reply trailed off, and as she seemed to fail to find a proper comparison, she shrugged, grinned and lamely completed with a sheepish, "We blame the tea."

The green-haired woman gave the little bluette a hard glare. "Oh, _thanks_." Wisely, the brat decided to shut up and follow him through the exit, to the waiting room. Once out of the line of fire, she gave him a querying look.

"Were you serious about eating? 'cause I was about being hungry," she said with a pat on her hoodie's kangaroo pouch. He nodded.

"I was," now did he think about it, he _was_ feeling a bit hungry. "Fast food?" He suggested, remembering a burger place he had spotted on the way back from her house. He was fairly sure she'd agree - as far as he knew, all kids loved fast food.

And true to form, she grinned. "Let me just get something in the locker room's fridge," she said. She reached for the door marked "employees only", only to freeze with one hand pulling the faucet-shaped handle down, as if she had just realized something. After a short pause, she gave him a puzzlingly innocent look and an angelic smile.

"No you can't, not today," she said quite more loudly than needed. A sideway glance showed him that the handful of people in the waiting room, including the receptionist, Haruko, were now looking at them.

"I can't what?" he asked, just _knowing_ he'd regret it. He was proven right.

"You can't follow me in the changing room, of course," she replied in that very same 'cute as a button' voice she had used to charm the thief's victim yesterday. "Maybe another day... wait for me please, Yuuki-oniichan!"

And she was through the door before he had time to snap at her. The people in the room were now staring at him suspiciously, while Haruko looked positively aghast, as if she had just lost something very important to a little nobody. He sighed - the two-button remote in his pants pocket suddenly seemed very heavy.

Now just _why_ did she have to do that? Damn brat.

-

-------------

-

Anyone capable of hearing through the patrol car's windows as it stopped at a red light would have been witness to a debate as old as the world, or at least as old as when the first humans started to eat more than just the first thing to fall in their hands. It was an intensely philosophical debate with roots that went deeply in the human psyche and civilization.

"Pizza," wanted Natsuki.

"Hamburger," wanted Yuuki.

And thus the debate went, both sides arguing the virtues of their chosen unhealthy delicacies while their stomachs grumbled loud, wordless monosyllabic epithets and burned with impatience, protesting that either choice was a good as the other. Unfortunately, those at the reins, their brains, were too busy with pridefully holding their end of the debate to consider the value of the stomachs' advices.

Philosophical debate with deep sociological roots, _indeed_.

The 'something' she had fetched from the locker room was currently lying on her small lap, inside a white plastic grocery bag - it was some kind of metal thermos that gave no hint as to what it contained, as well as a spoon. When he had asked, she had replied something vague about a secret ingredient that went with everything and made it better. Seeing as she was a kid, he was guessing it was either sugar or something just as nauseatingly sweet, like jelly or honey or something, and that guess served to satisfy his curiosity.

"Burgers are a lot cheaper and faster!"

"Pizzas are a lot more filling and healthy!"

"Since when do kids care about their health?"

"Why should you care about how long it takes to get our food? It's not like we have anything to do today--green light."

"Uh?"

She pointed ahead; the streetlight had gone green. "Oh."

The girl rolled her eyes as he sent the car forward on its wheels. "Tshh. And I thought detectives were supposed to be observant."

"That does it-- for that one, we're eating burgers."

"Hey, no fair!"

No fair indeed, especially since he was driving. Thus the debate was won, not by the one with the best arguments, but by the one holding the steering wheel and the wallet.

Philosophical debate with deep sociological roots, **_indeed_**.

-------------

Seventeen years old Yaitabashi Daijiro, one of the cooks (read: all-purpose worker/peon/boss' punching bag) employed at "Beijin Burger", 4482 Kashiwagi street, scratched the side of his pimpled nose with one hand, the other idly stirring the fries-to-be in the sink full of boiling frying oil. Working in a burger joint, he had decided long ago, was repetitive, though not as much as retail work, and usually eventless; the occasional event, however, was disgusting enough to make him feel grateful they didn't happen more often.

While none of his co-workers were really disagreeable (with the notable exception of the boss), he wasn't close to any of them. The most beautiful girl of the spot won the title by a sizable claim that was not due to her actual beauty, but because the barely five feet tall, two hundred and ten pounds girl was the only member of her gender working in this cheap joint. Of course, had the boss heard his thoughts, he would have been scolded; the Honorable Beijin Burger, after all, could only be called a Restaurant or a Diner, at least in his employer's presence.

The smell of the place had initially attracted him, who had always been a lover of hastily-made simple fried foods. However, after a few weeks, he had found the aroma registered a bit less every day, until he only noticed it when he actually walked _out_ of here and smelled something different. He knew from his friends smelling him that he now smelled strongly of fries, a smell that lingered to his hair and was thick enough that even a prolonged bath couldn't drive it away. This had, he knew, cost him a date last week; that sexy foreigner who had sniffed at him, said something in English he hadn't caught but that had certainly sounded disdainful, and something about a... what was the word again... a flake?

Well, he had looked through his parents' English-Japanese dictionary, and found that flakes had something to do with pastries--he couldn't exactly remember what, though. Obviously she had mistaken the smell around him for a bakery's, and had found it offensive. Thus, his loss of a chance date could directly (if incorrectly) be connected to Beijin Burger.

He didn't question his technique; any girl, after all, would have appreciated being told "You're cute, wanna go out with me?" in a language they didn't understand, by a plumpy guy who smelled like fries and whose porcine face was invaded by pimples. That could not possibly have been it.

"Hey, Yaitabashi, switch with me, I need to go to the bathroom," the cashier, a lightly older man with a bit of a gut and who always seemed to have hand-shaped fat stains on his uniform apron, asked him. Daijiro nodded uninterestedly; he couldn't even remember that man's name.

It was a repetitive, boring job that made him stink and made his skin feel fat. And it didn't even pay well, thanks to that skinflint boss of theirs. But he had been getting ready for the last two weeks, and had decided that today would be _it_.

He was going to quit. Today was going to be his last pay day... in this lousy place, at least.

As he served the policeman and the young blue-haired girl that accompanied him, a smile drew itself on his face. He would no longer have to handle his boss' lousy moods, no longer have to smell like he had just come out of the frying pan, no longer be paid...

...well, at least then he'd be able to have a date.

His mind forcefully pushed away the parts of his brain that proclaimed he hadn't been able to get a date _before_ he started working here. That, he decided, was an insignificant detail.

-------------

The Beijin Burger was a cheap homely-looking joint. Its walls were white and blank of anything except the occasional tasteless nonsensical painting, the roof was made of flat panels interrupted by boring white neon tubes for lighting, and while the floor was thankfully not tiled with black and white, Yuuki found the unoriginal brown and orange bricks clashed a hundred times more horribly with the walls than the tiles would have.

Most of the surface area was filled with tables and cheap hollow plastic benches covered with thin cushions that seemed to only make the benches less comfortable. The separation between the smoker and non-smoker sections was very thin, and thus the sections were obviously more of a formality than anything else. There was very little care in the restaurant; Yuuki guessed the only reason why the tables were actually aligned was because the benches could not be moved.

At least it was clean.

The brat's anger about the injustice of not getting Pizza because of her big bad partner's refusal seemed to have vanished the instant their burgers had been put in the cheap plastic plate in his hands. As she guided him energetically toward one of the tables near the windows opposite from the counter, she attracted the looks of quite a few patrons, and he spotted small smiles appearing on the faces of a good number of her spectators. Yuuki probably would have as well, had he not been aware that she could go from Hello Kitty to Dennis the Menace in less than a second, and that she was only in the first mode because something, namely food, was distracting her for the moment.

Soon, they were sitting, and the brat had picked up her order from the plate. The stares were now mostly sent his way, as it seemed quite a few people were wondering what a cute and most likely innocent little girl like her was doing in the presence of a police officer, in a fast food joint. While she didn't seem to be bothered by them at all - or, perhaps more possibly, didn't notice them - he felt somewhat unnerved. He wasn't new at being stared at by crowds - he _was_ a police officer, after all – but he wasn't used to receiving silent sneaking questions like those contained in the stares he was getting now.

"Just glare at them," she said; ok, so she _had_ noticed after all. "That's what Kumaji usually did."

"I'm not him," he replied, although he _did_ do as she suggested; an old woman who had been eating with her granddaughter gasped in outrage and her stare went from questioning to condemning; there was little doubt in his mind that she was now considering all kinds of grisly scenarios about why he was here with the little thirteen years old. The said girl snorted at this.

"I can see that," she replied in amusement while she lifted the plastic bag on the table. "He'd have put that one in her place, not make her huff and feel insulted."

"Kumaji probably could scare a Yakuza thug by blinking funny," he replied flatly. To his surprise, she actually let a light giggle escape.

"Actually, he _did_ just that, once," she started with a grin, which froze into a blank stare before she shrugged dismissively and completed, "which is more than _you_ ever will."

He blinked and glanced at her body language; whereas a second ago, it had told of her amusement at remembering and sharing something funny, it was now reserved and cold, as she did her best to look away from him and out the window while her hands undid the hamburger package semi-dexterously.

What was _that_? For an instant, he'd felt like she had been about to lower her defense of insufferableness and let him in a bit, but it was like she had realized what she had been doing and—

--…and _quite transparently_ intentionally insulted him.

She **_was_** doing it on purpose! 

But why?

His mind, already well-trained to guess the motives of hardened or occasional criminals only had minimal re-wiring to do before stumbling on an acceptable theory; she wanted their partnership to fail in order to get back with Kumaji. But, being a detective, he needed evidence of guilt, be it undeniable proof or simple admission, to be satisfied.

Besides, maybe he was jumping to conclusions.

His train of thought was derailed loudly, however, when she flipped her hamburger open and pulled the mysterious thermos and the spoon from the plastic bag. A deft twist later, the cap came off and Yuuki caught a peek of what was inside... some kind of white jelly?

With the spoon, she collected a generous amount of the stuff, then proceeded to smear it thickly on the burger bread.

"Mayonnaise?" he identified it. She grinned and nodded, repeating the process on the other slice.

"The stuff of gods," she said reverently with a conviction and tone that reminded him of a junkie he'd caught in the past as he described the substances he had acquired. He noticed she didn't stop at stuffing a thick layer on the bread when she picked up the too cooked meat and proceeded to smear more mayonnaise on both sides.

"You... um... bring your own?" He said intelligently, feeling queasy - at this rate, she'd be lucky to get a heart attack as late as twenty-five.

She nodded solemnly. "These places always get cheap brands that never taste like anything but crap," she said, everything in her tone proclaiming what a sacrilege that was, and what a fool he would be to disagree. "This," she poked the thermos with the clean end of the spoon, "is the good stuff. It's hard to find and not cheap, but it's _so_ worth it."

"Ah..." deciding to change the subject and not to look at the now closer and oozing burger-flavored mayonnaise sandwich, he mentally backtracked to remember what he had wanted to ask her, "Say, you and Kumaji, you've been partners for a long time?"

She paused in mid-chew, ignoring the way the extra mayonnaise oozed like slime out from between the slices of bread to splatter in the cardboard burger package, and stared at him suspiciously, visibly wondering why he brought that up. Finally, she seemed to decide to humor him and replied,

"Hmn, you could say that - he was the one who I got stuck with when I started, since he's the best in the station and no one could know how good I'd be on the field."

He noticed her distracted body language; her free hand was toying with her collar, making him hear the words she had left unsaid; Kumaji had also been the only one they'd trusted to keep a cool head should she become overzealous, or even dangerous, and the only one they'd trusted the use the remote if she _did_.

"You trust him, then?" He asked. She took a bite of her dripping burger and nodded hesitatingly with a tilted head.

"Kinda," was her evasive reply. He frowned at the non-answer.

-------------

The poor cook at the counter had quickly realized there was a problem with his plan (what plan there was) to tell the boss _today_. That problem was that the boss, as usual, had been off somewhere and wouldn't be back until his shift was over. So, he found himself facing the prospect of doing additional unpleasant hours. Seeing his mood darkening, another co-worker whose name he couldn't remember had offered to switch with him, sending him back to his fries and away from the clients.

What kind of boss didn't stay at work during work hours, anyway? What if there was an emergency of some kind that absolutely required his attention?

...what kind of emergency would that be?

Come to think about it, the boss didn't seem to have any talents other than complaining and keeping money to himself. He was reminded of that time when they had asked him to get those new automatic model of frying baskets, those you just left there hanging from the sink and stirred on their own; he had given them a lecture about being lazy and wanting to skip on work at exorbitant expenses on his part, then set them off on their way; they were still using the old model and wasting their wrists and risking oil burns while using them.

Hm, was it just him, or was the basket heavier than usual? In fact, it was getting heavier, even as he held it. Soon after his arm informed his distracted brain of his, he looked down, to find a spindly purple appendage sticking out of the boiling oil, poking at the half-cooked fries and eating them from a tiny mouth at its end.

--wait, that was _not_ normal! That could only be an--

-------------

**"ORPHAN!" **

The scream had come from the counter, and had rapidly caused a panic. One of the cooks, an overweight and pimpled young man, was stepping away from the frying sinks, as--  
As half a dozen purple spindly tentacles erupted from it and started flailing about, sending drops of boiling oil at anything they touched. One of them found the stand where the hamburger meat was being cooked, opened its tip wide and started swallowing burger after burger like a vacuum cleaner.

It hadn't taken long for the crowd to react; with a common scream, the patrons suddenly stood and flowed for the exits in complete disorder. As for Yuuki and Natsuki, well, the former found himself chocking on a fry at the first scream, and the latter had been in the process of taking a sip of her orangeade…

"Pffft!"

---which of course meant she had spat it most unpleasantly from her nose. Wiping it with her sleeve, the little bluette gave a glare at the creature up at the counter.

"Just my rotten luck--" she muttered, punctuated by the twin flashes of light and the whirring sound that announced the materialization of her Elements.

The tentacles had continued to grow, both in size and in number; by the time the restaurant had been completely evacuated, they were counted by the dozen and were tall enough to reach the liquor machine, which they broke in an impressive feat of coordinated strength to drain the sweet liquid inside.

It rapidly became obvious they could not see; they whipped and flailed about, touching, feeling and tasting; a bag of fries was devoured, both fries and paper, just like the content of a bowl of soup, both the food and the spoon. Only the latter was spit out, mangled and bent.

The young HiME had started using her elements - with stunning accuracy, he noted - but while the tentacles she shot recoiled and flinched in obvious pain, there was too many of them for her to stop, no matter how quickly she seemed to be able to fire.

Or at least, too many for her to protect their meal, which quickly took the way of the Orphan's stomach, along with--

"NO! MY MAYONNAISE!"

--the brat's 'sauce of the gods', which was soon sucked away like the rest of the food. The offending tentacle found itself becoming her sole target until it was little more than a block of ice standing on the end of a whippy stick. This did nothing to make it less dangerous, as the flailing block of ice was now a club of respectable strength that was promptly whipped in their direction. The HiME didn't even flinch as she raised her guns to parry; a strange silvery energy shield that barely covered her upper arms sprouted from the circular section of her guns and blocked the blow with a minimum of effort on her part.

By now, the rest of the Orphan was in the process of slipping out of the sink. The main body, which he only saw for a second, seemed to be little more than a small sphere from where hundreds of tentacles sprouted. Yuuki boggled as he recognized what it was shaped like.

"...it's... a big purple koosh ball," he noted blankly.

"It ate my mayonnaise. It _dies,_" growled Natsuki. "**_Durhan!_**"

And, with an explosion of icy spines - "Whoa!" Yuuki said as he narrowly avoided losing an eye - the metal wolf that was Natsuki's Child appeared, shaking its metal head and howling mechanically. The ice shattered like glass and seemed to vanish into thin air the same way her Elements did when she dispelled them.

"Durhan! Load silver cartridge!" she shouted in English. The revolver-like backs of the wolf's cannons flipped open, along with two bullet racks hidden in its hind legs. The topmost shells slid inside the cannons, which flipped shut with a metallic clang immediately after.

"FIRE!" she commanded. A deafening blast later, two shots were flying for the Orphan, and to his surprise, they flashed and became a literal _flood_ of ice crystals in mid-air, slashing and ripping tentacles left and right as the monster silently flinched with its entire rubbery body.

"Load chrome cartridge!" she shouted again...

-------------

"WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS?"

Ah, there he was, Daijiro thought as the boss' roly-poly shape walked out of his red car parked near the sidewalk in front of the relatively long path leading up to the restaurant. He seemed to be quite irate and was looking around at people escaping from his restaurant, with a look on his face that _swore_ that heads would roll for this.

He was angry. _Not_ the time to tell him he wanted to quit, his brain warned.

He was there. _Perfect_ time to tell him he wanted to quit, the rest of him said.

And in a perfectly democratic fashion, majority won, leaving the brain to sulk. He walked toward the boss and said, meekly,

"Ano..."

The boss didn't hear him. To his excuse, there was still about ten meters between them, and with the screams of panic from the escaping crowd, there was no insurance that he would have heard his voice shouting over the noise. He continued to approach, avoiding a broken manhole (in his single-mindedness, he didn't ask himself why it was broken) and getting pushed by fleeing man around his age wearing a backpack in the process, before repeating,

"Ano---"

**---VROOOOM!---**

**"FUCK!" **Both the boss' curse and the sound of the engine inside the black van that nearly clipped his boss' chubby back in its hurry to escape the scene served very efficiently to silence his meek mutter this time.

Third time's the charm, and so it was; less than three feet away, he tried again.

"Ano..."

"What is it!" The boss barked.

As the rest of him reconsidered the wisdom of asking _now_, his brain decided it needed a break from those fools and promptly left the rest of him in control. Yet, his determination, stubborn idiot that it was, made him steel himself - he knew he would regret it if he didn't do it now (despite the now fervent objections from everything else).

After a brief revolution, Democracy lost to Despotism.

"Boss, I wanted to... um... I would like to... uh..." Ok, that was pathetic, President Determination condemned. Self-confidence! Nerves of steel! Explosion--

_**-------BOOM!-------**_

...of courage, glass and rubble!

er... what?

"NOOO! MY DINER!" The boss screamed in horror, his small-fingered hands pulling at his frizzy hair as the restaurant went up in a ball of flames; they were far enough that the only debris that reached them were pebbles and dust. "You! You're fired!" He added at the cook's direction, if only to vent his anger – it didn't seem to work.

"Ah... uh... thanks?" Daijiro said hesitatingly. The boss didn't listen; he was still staring at the source of the explosion while biting his fat lower lip. Beyond the cloud of plaster dust and settling debris, the restaurant seemed to be still standing. The same thing could not be said about the windows, which had been literally blown away by the force of the blast. There was a flickering yellow glow that told of the presence of fire, too; the newly fired cook wouldn't be able to work again today--

...er... wait, he was fired.

His brain finally came back to its senses, berated the rest of his body for making them look like an idiot, then made him leave the place with a weird look on his face, a kind of vacantly thoughtful smile-frown - "Grandma, did the Orphan get him?" "Don't look, honey. We're going home."

Oh yes, that grandmother had had better days. She would have been willing to bet that mean, aggressive, child-kidnapping police officer had something to do with this, too.

No one saw or heard the pair of partners as they surreptitiously left the building through the back door... ...or at least as surreptitiously as they could while arguing.

"Shrimp and mayonnaise!"

"Pork and cheese!"

_"Shrimp and mayonnaise!" _

_"Pork and cheese!" _

And a full minute later, a nervous cashier-whose-name-the-newly-fired-cook-couldn't-remember stuck his head out of the miraculously intact bathroom.

"Is it over?"

…it was just another day in Tokyo, it seemed…

-

-------------

-

Had the patrol car been capable of understanding what its passengers were saying, it would have sighed. Actually, it would have needed to be able to _sigh_ to be able to do so, but it probably would have tried anyway.

"Pork and cheese, it's the best way to have Pizza." reasoned Yuuki.

"Shrimp and mayonnaise, Pork gets stuck in your teeth and you end up with bits of it between them for _hours_," shot back the brat.

"Pork and cheese, you're just a mayonnaise- _"Station to Tanuki and Princess, please respond." _–freak --hold on a sec—" He picked up the radio, "Ta_naka **Yuuki**_ to station, 10-4,"

_"We have a code 3-C flagged at 4480, Kashiwagi street. Please investigate." _

"A what?" The brat hissed. He waved her down with one hand, making her huff and pout in her seat.

"10-4, station, proceeding to site," he replied before putting the radio back down. He turned toward his little partner. "We were just on Kashiwagi, weren't we?"

She nodded. "What's a code 3-C again?"

"Post-fact theft report," he replied.

"Oh, bleh. That's boring."

"Hmm," he agreed. "Pork and cheese."

"Shrimp and mayonnaise."

-

-------------

-

"Ok. This is crazy." Yuuki declared eloquently.

4480 Kashiwagi turned out to be a small family fruit shop. It looked completely normal, if a bit run-down, and would not have caused such a reaction from the police detective had it not been built directly beside the now lightly fuming remains of the Beijin Burger.

He and Natsuki stepped out of the car and were immediately intercepted by a firefighter, who informed them the fire wasn't criminal and had been caused by an Orphan and a HiME fighting. The misunderstanding was easily cleared, but not before--

"Police! Finally--I want to file a complaint about the little menace who destroyed my restaurant!"

...the boss of the Beijin Burger spotted them. He was a short, stout, far-bellied foreigner with a springy mustache and frizzy grey-black hair that stuck out comically on both sides of his head to leave the top completely bald. Yuuki spared a glance at the suddenly nervous Natsuki and, for an instant, flirted with the idea of telling him exactly who the little menace was, but decided against it - he was busy, after all. Plus, the boss would kill him if she got in trouble by his hand.

It was _damn _tempting, though.

"You'll have to file your complaint to the station, sir, we're busy for the moment," he said diplomatically. The pudgy man's small black eyes rolled upward as he continued to approach them with a tilting walk that made him look like a weird round pendulum.

"_BAH_, bureaucrats—nothing ever moves with 'em!" he spat with a breath that made Yuuki's nose wrinkle. "And they probably won't do a thing because a damn HiME did this – she'll probably have some stupid law backing her up," Yuuki noticed his partner's flinch and took note of it while the man continued to rave. "If she was human, she'd get sued left an' right for causing this much damage, but _no._ Not a HiME. And my insurances probably won't pay me for this because she did it... 'em damn freaks, public dangers, the lot of 'em! They should all get locked up somewhere they won't attract Orphans on decent people--"

Throughout his speech, Yuuki had been hearing a noise, a strange crescendo sound that sounded a bit like an angry cat growling. With these words as punctuation, the tone rose and became accompanied by a short-lived high-pitched whine, and before he knew it, the overweight man was facing both of a furious Natsuki's guns.

"Shut. Up." The little girl ordered. The portly man went an interesting shade of puce, then hastily turned face and stormed back toward the ruined restaurant, muttering epithets that Yuuki chose not to listen to, with the brat glaring at him the whole way.

"...you ok there?" He asked worriedly. She wasn't going to go berserk on him, right?

"Yes," she replied in a tone that said 'No, and stop asking'. He wisely decided to leave her alone.

"Ano... you're here about the theft, aren't you?" Asked an aging female voice - with a somewhat hunchbacked posture in the doorway was a frail-looking aged woman who had a tired look on her lightly wrinkled face.

-

She introduced herself as Umino Kasumi, sixty-two years old and owner, manager and cashier of the small fruit shop _"Umi no ki"_, tree of the lake, which she had inherited from her parents a _long_ time ago ("My father was a bit of a poet," she explained, both to explain the shop's name and her own, 'Mist of the lake'). While she gave a strange look at Natsuki, as if wondering why Yuuki was letting her get involved (not that he had much choice about it, really), she didn't ask, for which the Kansaijin officer felt very grateful. Both investigators noted the aura of ancientness that hovered inside the modest shop, from the rustic wooden stalls to its homely sun-given lighting. A strong fruity smell permeated the air quite pleasantly, Yuuki found, though from the way Natsuki's nose was wrinkling, she was appreciating it much less.

"Then people started screaming and running, saying there was an orphan in the burger next door," the old woman was telling an attentive Yuuki, while the little girl looked around the shop, "I was helped outside by Mrs. Izumi, who'd been here for her usual Sunday shopping. It's a good thing that HiME beat the Orphan so fast, I don't exactly have the means to repair this place."

"Not very successful, then?" The brat asked bluntly, earning herself a dark look from Yuuki, which she didn't seem to notice in her inspection of the door. Predictably, the old woman appeared mildly insulted.

"It used to be a _very_ successful shop, young lady," she admonished. "I often had days when I had to empty the register four or five times. But then those huge markets popped in near Yagama Street and... Well... I don't have the equipment or the room to sell everything people want under one roof. I can't compete in terms of practicality, but I haven't seen one of those sterile places with as pleasant an atmosphere as here!"

The woman seemed to be quite proud in her little shop. The little girl didn't seem convinced, but stayed silent.

"What happened afterward?" Yuuki asked, returning to her testimony. The old woman resumed,

"When I came back after the Orphan was beaten, I found my door had been opened - you need to give it a good tug to shut it right, and it wasn't - and someone had stolen all the money in the register."

"How much money are we talking about?"

"Oh, probably a few dozen thousand yen, nothing very impressive. At least they couldn't touch the Saturday rush!"

Idly listening, Natsuki had been looking around the shop, as she had grown used to while partnered with Kumaji. The shop had obviously seen better days. The floor, made of old and faded vinyl, resisted her slight weight, but creaked ominously under her partner's. The two bare light bulbs set on the ceiling hadn't lit up when she had poked the switch; either they were burned out or the button had stopped working. Many of the stalls were in a bad shape and she very carefully avoided touching them, lest she came away with a dozen painful shards in her fingers. She knew it looked no better from outside; if she had wanted to steal something, this would be the very last place she would have tried. A look outside confirmed her suspicions; there was a jewelry shop just on the other side of the street, still deserted from the evacuation.

Indeed, she concluded, their thief was an idiot.

"You wouldn't have enemies, or someone who would want to see you go out of business? A buyer, maybe?" her partner was asking, making her realize she hadn't considered that possibility. The woman shook her head negatively.

"I haven't had anyone who wants to buy my shop or the land in the last twenty years. My grandson already told me he doesn't want it, and the closest thing I have to an enemy is that little toad who owns the burger next door, because his junk food joint steals some of my costumers and stinks up the place. But then, you'll see there aren't many people around here who like him, even his own employees. And I think he had other things on his mind at the time than to come here to steal what he'd consider to be _pocket change_."

An inspection of the register for prints proved the thief had been using gloves; not exactly an unusual thing to carry on a spring day, but suspicious as it was quite comfortable outside without them. Other witnesses proved to be useless - most people had already left the scene in the evacuation and very few had come back, if only to get their cars and leave again. The firefighters had been understandably too busy to see someone coming in or out of the _Umi no ki_ during the panic, the burger workers hadn't seen a thing, and the joint's boss--

"My restaurant got blasted to bits, I nearly got run over by a lousy driver, one of my employees just quit, and you're asking me if I was someone steal from that old ruin next door! Of _course_ I didn't, you fucking morons!"

...had proved to be just as useless.

"Can't we lock him up for that?" the bluette asked silently.

"Do you seriously want to ride back to the station with him whining on the back seat?"

"...never mind."

The old woman gave them understanding looks when they had returned empty-handed, with only the insurance that her report would be listed at the station and she would be told if the thief was ever caught.

"That's what I get for not installing cameras," she bemoaned. "I guess the only thing I can do is hope whoever did this won't waste my money on drugs or a weapon."

-------------

The sky had been almost imperceptibly yellowing for the past few hours as the green-lit numbers of the clock mounted in the patrol car approached 5:00, the bright rays of the sun glowing in the cloudless sky rebounding off the white walls and painting them with their light, giving the scene a brilliant air. Inside the patrol car, however, the atmosphere was morose and silent as the two partners drove aimlessly down the streets, feeling like they had failed.

"You think she'll be fine?" Natsuki finally asked, breaking the gloomy silence. The detective gave her a sideway glance, noticing the pensive frown on her immature face, then replied,

"She will, it's not like that thief took a lot of money with him. At least she knows we're not likely to find whoever did it."

The little girl's frown grew deeper. "I bet Kumaji could--"

"He couldn't," Yuuki interrupted. "We have exactly zero leads on who did it; no one saw it happen, so we don't have a description. Most of the people who were there, and we're talking about at _least_ two dozen people, excluding the firemen, the burger workers and us, had already left the scene by the time the crime was flagged, and there isn't a list of who was there, so we can't find who did it by elimination.

"The thief came in through an unlocked door, wearing gloves, and completely emptied the register; at most, we can find out what kind of gloves he was wearing, which _might_ narrow the list down to... oh, maybe a few hundred thousand people in Tokyo, though we'd have to ask everyone if they have gloves like those, which would be long and silly, when you consider how much missing money we're talking about. Plus, with all the smells in the place, I don't think even _your_ dog would be able to sniff a trail.

"So unless Kumaji had the magical power of coming up with clue out of nowhere, or unless the thief decides to try his luck again, I'm afraid this case is going to remain unsolved," he concluded. His eyes had been riveted on the street as he spoke, which was why he missed the impressed look the little girl had sent his way, if only for a second. By the time he _did _look, she had put her face back into a bored, disappointed frown, and didn't appear to be willing to talk, making him roll his eyes exasperatedly.

For the next few minutes, the drive was silent, but as they turned a corner and drove past a small ramen Yattai, both of their stomachs made their voices known as one.(10)

A shared glance later, Yuuki suggested, "Ramen?"

"Hn," she replied with a nod.

-

It was a pity, but it turned out they didn't have mayonnaise. The cook's face when she had asked had been priceless, however.

-

-------------

-

**Author's notes**:

I swear the chapter wasn't this long on paper!

As I hope you can guess, I like Shizuru. She's a great character, both at bringing out the best of another favorite of mine, Natsuki, and on her own. Plus, her Child, and especially the legend behind it, fit her _perfectly_. I'm always one for a good plot device, like how they _used_ that legend in episode 25.

I'm quite sorry for all the Japanese at the start of the episode, but this was a special case, a scene that could only _really_ be shown this way. Or maybe it was artistic license. Whatever.

Final note: Never eat Pizza in Japan. They eat weird stuff on them. Ô.o

As always, Reviews are very, very welcome.

-

**Japanese notes: **

(1) Yamato Nadeshiko: This is a somewhat outdated Japanese concept of the "perfect wife"; well known anime examples of such girls are Belldandy (Ah! Megami-sama) and Tendo Kasumi (Ranma).

(2) Maido is a Kansai-ben greeting. The Kanto-ben (Tokyoite) equivalent is "Konnichiwa".

(3) Er… sorry for the Japanese. Shizuru says "Good morning, I am Fujino Shizuru. Mr policeman is?". I had to write it that way, to point out her own accent ("Uchi" and "Dosu"). Gokigenyou is a somewhat unusual, ultra-polite form of greeting. I also had to look for a while to find Shizuru's favored second person term, but I couldn't find it, so... _Keikan-san_ it is.

(4) A Kansaijin is someone from Kansai.

(5) "Yours is obviously Kyoto", he said, but parodying her own accent; the "Dosu" part is very much typical to Kyoto.

(6) "That's right", again, in Kansai.

(7) An impolite "Stop that"; the English version didn't pack the same punch, I felt.

(8) Gods, eighth one and I haven't reached the title… Obaasan is, roughly "Auntie"; it's a distantly respectful honorific for an elderly woman, or a woman in your family who is quite a bit older than you (and isn't your grandmother).

(9) A Tanuki is a creature of Japanese Mythology, usually shown as a Raccoon with very large (almost comically so) testicles. Sometimes a trickster spirit, sometimes an evil being, sometimes helpful.

(10) A Yattai is a mobile restaurant. Unlike North American counterparts, they tend to be clean and as viable a food source as a restaurant (if not more).


	4. Chapter 3: Purple Python

There were a number of unofficial rules that surrounded meal times at the Himeno Koujin, each enforced by different judges, juries and executioners. First, no talking with your mouth full, administrated by Fumi-obaachan. Second, no fighting at the table, verbal or physical, controlled and made useless by Shizuru. And last but far from least, for god's sake,_ don't look at what Natsuki's eating_, as enforced by their stomachs.

Today, while the rest of the home was enjoying Fumi-obaachan's homemade pancakes with syrup, Natsuki was eating mayonnaise with pancakes. Yesterday's more traditionally Japanese breakfast had had the same fate, and while mayonnaise and fish had been somewhat tolerable, very few people in the house knew how the bluette could stomach mayonnaise-flavored rice. The only reason the Miso soup hadn't suffered the same fate was because mayonnaise tended to make unappealing floating blobs in liquid that even the mayonnaise junkie didn't like to look at.

The only one who seemed to be exempted from this rule was the enforcer of law number two, who seemed to be disapprovingly amused as only she seemed to be able to. But then, one could argue that there were very few things that had the property of being related to Kuga Natsuki that Fujino Shizuru didn't find either amusing or interesting. Those included the stories the bluette had shared and was sharing in between bites to the other tenants about her new partner, the man whom sixteen years old romance novel junkie Himiko had described as "a total hottie."

(While Shizuru _had_ found him to be ruggedly handsome, she had felt no attraction whatsoever - she blamed her young age... maybe)

Shizuru hadn't found him to be unpleasant at all, unlike Natsuki apparently had. Much the contrary, she had found him to be a polite, likable person with a good sense of humor, whom she was sure Natsuki could easily grow to be friends with if she simply bothered to give him the chance. However, she knew Natsuki, and she knew Natsuki's old partner, Kumaji-san, and the kind of hole the young (relatively speaking) detective had to fill to replace him.

She knew perfectly well Natsuki had been intentionally making herself detestable to her new partner – something that Shizuru knew first hand Natsuki could do very well indeed. Her friend had a stubborn streak that reached the point of foolishness sometimes, and this, she felt, was one of those times. She knew Natsuki well enough to guess what plan she had: to push everyone away until Akitori-san put her back with Kumaji-san.

She seriously doubted the uncompromising Chief would do anything of the sort.

She also knew words wouldn't make Natsuki change her mind until she went through at least half a dozen partners, who would be increasingly less competent or compatible with her than Tanaka-san. Thus, her most precious friend would be in more danger, or at least wouldn't be as happy. Just thinking this made Shizuru frown lightly in disapproval (a reaction extreme enough for her that the tomboyish Yumei asked her if everything was all right through a mouthful of syrupy pancake, and was of course scolded gently by Fumi-obaachan).

No, Shizuru decided, this simply would _not_ do.

However, perhaps… perhaps there was a way…

-

Half an hour later, Shizuru walked back inside from escorting Natsuki to the police car as she always did, and surprised quite a few tenants when, instead of completing her morning routine by picking the novel she was currently engrossed into, she headed directly for the two antique-styled but fully functional phones as soon as she entered the main room. Those tenants immediately wondered what number she dialed, a number she had apparently memorized, despite never having been seen actually _calling _anyone before. A few seconds after she had hit the last number, the look on her face told someone had picked it up.

"Yes, I am Fujino Shizuru, a friend of Natsuki. I would like to speak to Chief Constable Akitori-san, if it is not inopportune of me to ask."

Everyone recognized the name; the seemingly redoubtable police chief had featured in quite a few of Natsuki's stories. Shizuru made a small acknowledging noise to whoever she was talking to, then waited a few more seconds, looking deep in thought. There was a light in her crimson eyes that made some of the older tenants nervous; something… _mischievous_.

Shizuru was also known throughout the orphanage to be a girl with a surprisingly impish sense of humor. The fervently Buddhist Tsubasa-chan closed her hands around her beads and sent a short prayer at Natsuki.

"Yes, I did," Shizuru suddenly said; she was apparently talking to the police chief. "Am I right to believe you would like to see Natsuki and Tanaka-san cooperating with their partnership?"

A short pause later, she continued, "yes… will you listen?" Whatever the answer was on the other side, it made a smile-that-was-not-a-smile appear on the fourteen years old brunette's face. "Then here's my idea…"

A few seconds later, another prayer was sent Natsuki's way.

-

As she listened to the young teen over the phone, a smile grew itself on Chief Akitori's face. It was not a nice smile. In fact—

"Chief, I got the reports you asked for abou---EEK!" Insert the sound of a pile of paper shuffling to the floor here.

"Ah... Just a second, Fujino-san-- Ichidouji, are you all right?"

"…s…scary…"

Not a nice smile, indeed.

-

-------------

-

Being a receptionist in a police station meant that one heard about the most lurid criminal actions perpetrated by some of the worst felons in Japan, just as much as some of the most insignificant minor infractions committed by the rejects of society. This ranged from theft to burglary, from missing people to kidnapping and ransom, from minor injuries to murder, from assault and battery to—

**--**_squeak_**—**"---assault against common _sense_!"

--assault against common sen—huh?

Shocked out of her boredom-induced stupor, Sakurazaki Haruko watched as the team now known throughout the station as Princess and Tanuki (Haruko _tried_ not to wonder to what point the nickname fit him; this, of course, meant she failed) walked in through the front door, and caught only the end of what seemed to be an argument on… music?

"I mean, come on, Techno is just mindless _boom boom_s with electronic beeps thrown around. A crashing computer can do that," Princess was saying.

"Techno does_ not_ sound like a crashing computer," Tanuki sounded offended.

"…all right, I admit it, you're right," Natsuki suddenly and surprisingly declared.

"I am?"

"Yup: a crashing computer comes with a lot of cursing, so I guess we can say they actually have _lyrics_, which Techno doesn't have."

"You're saying Metal has lyrics!"

"Yes it does!"

"You can't even understand them!"

"I _do_ know some English!"

"'_I am eating an apple'_ or _'I like Mayonnaise' _do _not_ count as knowing English. Besides, I wasn't _only_ talking about English metal, even Japanese Metal is impossible to understand; they could be repeating "I like to jog freeballing" and you wouldn't know it. They all sound like some constipated guy is sitting on the crapper and pushing, with a bunch of car accidents happening in the background----- Ah, Haruko, which is better: Techno, or Metal?"

The pretty-faced receptionist blinked at suddenly being included in the discussion, then "hmm"ed thoughtfully before replying, "Well, I've always been more of a J-Pop fan myself, so…" she trailed off a the incredulous looks she received. As one, the two partners turned to look at each other.

"Let's ask someone with musical tastes that matter," princess suggested. ("HEY!" went the receptionist.)

"Agreed," said Tanuki.

Haruko huffed in irritation. "Then go ask the Chief, she wants to see you two again."

"Again!" Tanuki groaned. "If this keeps up, I'll get the habit of going straight to her office first thing in the morning."

"Besides, _she_ likes those boring songs with trumpets… um… Jaws or something—"

"Jazz?" He supplied. She nodded.

"She likes _that_, anyway," she finished, before freezing as she seemed to realize something. "Er… wait, did anyone remember to—"

Anticipating her question, the receptionist raised her steaming cup of coffee over the counter ("Kiss the cute ones," said the pink heart-shaped speech bubble said by the cavity-inducingly-cute super-deformed purple rabbit drawn on the cup) "Three people did," she replied, "we received Thirty-three bags this morning; the problem won't be running out, but it'll be drinking it all before it goes bad."

The little girl sighed in relief; Yuuki echoed the feeling. Cyclone Akitori had hopefully regressed to a severe tropical storm.

-

The chief wasn't alone in her office when Yuuki knocked at the door, but she motioned them in anyway. After the pair had settled themselves on the available chairs, the voluptuous woman proceeded to introduce the fourth occupant of the room.

Rokubungi Shigehiro was a graying aged officer whose wrinkled face was stony and serious-looking, with a neutral frown and pinched lips set in a thin line. His uniform, which he wore so impeccably it might as well have been an example picture taken from a trainee's textbook, proclaimed him to have the rank of Lieutenant. His eyes were cold an emotionless, his shoes were too meticulously clean and shiny—hell, even his nose-pinching oval-rimmed glasses were too clear, and even as she looked, he pulled out a handkerchief from his uniform's chest pocket and wiped some imaginary speck of dust from them. In Natsuki's rapidly shaping opinion, he seemed to be way too serious to be any fun.

Plus, his name was the biggest mouthful she had ever heard.

"Lieutenant Rokubungi's team was recently split," the chief continued after introducing him, "and seeing as I've been starting to have doubts on the grounds of your partnership, I've decided to introduce you to the-- _alternatives_. Should you end up working with them better than with your current partner, the transfer will be made permanent by this evening."

Both Yuuki and Natsuki mentally cheered (betrayed by a small kick from her short leg and a tiny twitch in his tanned cheek), but while the latter ignored the tiny pause in her words, the former noticing it and filing it for later. The Lieutenant seemed to be a total bore and, Yuuki deduced, was most likely the source of the split, which meant the other prospective partner couldn't be as bad; took a wild guess and decided the other partner would probably come later; there wasn't any seats left, after all.

"Kuga-san will therefore be assigned to the traffic-control division under the title of Lieutenant Rokubungi's partner for today," the Chief said, to the mild consternation of the young teen, who had obviously been wishing she'd get the other one. "Any questions?"

"Just one." Rokubungi spoke up in a nasal voice. For a moment, Yuuki was expecting him to wonder if this was a joke, as, no matter how you looked at her, the brat was simply too young to do police work, but the older officer surprised him: "Has Kuga-dono been informed of the regulations concerning the tasks expected to be performed by agents affiliated to the Traffic Control Division, _Shochou-dono_?" (1)

Yuuki snickered silently while the little girl's face paled in horror; he sounded even stuffier than he looked! It was obvious, from the look in her eyes, that she was wondering something along the lines of 'why the hell do _I_ end up with the stick-in-the-mud!'

The Chief pretended not to notice and answered, "I'm afraid she hasn't for the moment; I trust you can correct that, Lieutenant Rokubungi." At his nod, she turned toward Yuuki. "Detective Tanaka, give Kuga-san's key to Lieutenant Rokubungi." And he did, under a positively horrified green-eyed stare. "Now get going, and Kuga-san, please explain how your collar works to Rokubungi-san. Be sure to tell him properly, we wouldn't want him neutralizing you by mistake."

And, to Yuuki's surprise and Natsuki's complete horror, the graying man showed no signs of surprise of any kind, as if little girls wearing collars capable of knocking them out with the push of a button were nothing unusual, before getting up and leaving, hesitantly trailed by a very, _very_ reluctant Natsuki. The door shut behind them with a soft click, and Yuuki let himself hope this would be the last time he would see the little girl.

In a not-dead way, of course; he didn't hate her _that_ much.

…Mostly, he decided, because he hadn't had the time to.

"Now, as for you, Tanuki," she said with none of the protocolar distance she'd obviously been using for the Lieutenant's benefit, "your partner for today is waiting for you in your squad car, in lot 27. There's a missing animal case flagged for you two, it's unimportant enough to test how you two work together."

"Can you tell me a bit about him... or her?" Yuuki asked hopefully as they stood. The chief opened the door.

"_He_," she stressed, to his mild disappointment, "is a recently promoted detective, like you. His name is Oyama Junbo, and--"

The door shut silently, leaving the office deserted. Not a minute later, it opened once more and the chief, alone, entered. She immediately went to the window, picking her steaming cup of coffee ("My bite is worse," said the super-deformed toothily grinning bulldog printed on it) from her desk along the way, and gazed down at the parking lot, easily finding the long-haired officer as he headed for the car and met his new partner. A toothy, shark-like grin drew itself on her face.

"Here's your new partner, Tanaka-san," she muttered smugly, taking a sip from her cup, "I hope you _don't_ get along."

-

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Mai**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**-**

**Disclaimer:   
**I don't own Mai HiME  
So all you lawyers should stay away  
I also can't write poetry  
To save my... um... poultry?

**Special thanks to: Sebastian Palm for pre-reading this chapter and preventing me from making a fool of myself (too much).**

**-**

**Chapter 3: Violet Python **

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-

When one thinks about hell, generally, a mental picture of a desolate fiery wasteland covered with lava, brimstone and acrid smoke, inhabited by horrible sadistic demons enjoying the tortured screams of the mutilated souls of sinners comes to mind. However, Natsuki, as she gazed longingly outside the passenger window of the squad car she was caught inside, decided that while they had the torture and mutilation right, those who had initially made this description were wrong on quite a few points. First, there was no lava or brimstone, only metal and glass, and the only smoke there was came out of the car's exhaust pipe.

Second, while the horrible being sitting in the seat beside her and--

"Section 10, Paragraph 3, concerning dual-wheeled motored vehicles, the police car should remain at least three meters away and use the siren to avoid endangering the safety of the delinquent…"

and _quoting_ _entire paragraphs _of boring traffic-related regulations couldn't _possibly_ be human, he didn't exactly seem like he was enjoying torturing her with boredom. Of course, the cold expressionless face might be his kind's way of showing amusement, she amended darkly as she did her best not to listen.

'Please put me out of my misery... let someone ram into this car in just the right way to hit the red button...' This was something else that bothered her; whereas Kumaji and Tanaka had both usually stored her collar's remote in their pockets, Rockybungee (as she had started to think of him while picturing the old man 'enjoying' said activity, which involved a bridge built over a quarry of particularly sharp-edged rocks and a Bungee rope just a few inches too long) was keeping it right next to the handbrake. His reasoning had been sound, though; "It's easier and faster to access it if I leave it there."

...this, of course, meant that either he didn't trust Natsuki, either he wanted to leave her a message or either he was simply not thinking outside of the rule that said he was required to keep it close at hand at all times in her presence (which she now regretted mentioning). After spending the last hour in his presence, she had little doubt the latter reason was the real one, as the man seemed to need regulations to eat, drink and breathe.

And while she didn't exactly feel _threatened_ (he wouldn't do a thing as long as she didn't do something stupid, like summon her Child inside the car for no reason), it was a constant reminder of the fate literally hanging from her neck, which she of course didn't appreciate.

"--at all times and _are you listening_, Kuga-dono?"

"Uh...? Oh! Um, yes!" she slowly lied, internally wincing as he frowned disapprovingly - it barely showed.

"Then, tell me what, in order, a police officer assigned to the Traffic Control Division should do in the presence of a suspected drunk driver."

"Uh... a drunk driver, hm? ...um... heh… uh…" she stammered, racking her brains. Internally, she cursed. Damnit, why did _she_ end up with him? There was no way that damn pervert's partner was this bad.

-------------

'The damn brat's partner can't be this bad,' Tanaka Yuuki decided mentally with a sideway glance at "Junbo". Be it one of fate's quirky jokes, a self-fulfilling prophecy or a cruel parent with an educated guess, the other detective's name, which _oh **so** sounded_ like Oyama (Great Mountain) Ju**m**bo, fit him like a glove.

A very large glove. Like most of his clothes, probably.

Yuuki was fairly sure the other detective cheated or sneaked his way through the mandatory routine health inspections, because there was no way the downright obese man sitting on the passenger seat and filling it completely (and then some) with his voluminous behind could pass them. Had the Chief allowed him to see a picture of his face, he would have seen the problem right away; he had a protuberant double chin and squirrel-like bulbous cheeks, and his neck seemed to ooze out of his too-small uniform, which appeared to be ready to burst at the seams despite being the largest size available.

"…so then I said 'I'll take a box of those jelly ones,' and she said 'Will you want a coffee with that'… get it? Coffee with jelly donuts!"

…He also had the worst sense of humor Yuuki had ever had the displeasure of suffering through. And his laughter sounded like a pig with a bad cold trying to sniff.

"Hehe… omph, take a reft he'e," Oyama said through a mouthful of donuts, extracted from the half-empty box lying on his bulging belly. The map was open, resting its bottom edge on his blubbery legs and help upright by his chubby fingers stained with donut grease. The confection was releasing a strong sweet odor that he found to be sickeningly uncomfortable, and even his open window was barely enough to make it tolerable.

He turned left at the next corner, then gave a glance at his 'partner', who was masticating loudly with his porcine cheeks puffed and his mouth partially open. "And now?"

"Now, um..." a brief inspection of the map later, he swallowed his bite and said, "…Oh, we should have turned at the next one, sorry. This street leads to… uh… which direction are we going in again? North or… uh… East or West?" (The latter was delivered even as the car sped past a street sign showing this path bore the name of "Iwakura Avenue South", which he had, of course, not noticed.)

He also couldn't keep his bearings straight on a map.

Resisting the urge to curse, Yuuki looked around the street searching for a place to turn around for the third time since they had left the station (experience having taught that it was a bad idea to let him redirect him), while ignoring the nauseating way his partner stuffed the rest of his donut in his mouth.

Oh, how he _wished_ he had got the brat's partner; at least he seemed to be remotely competent.

-

-------------

-

"60... 61... 52..."

Resisting the urge to yawn, Natsuki continued to read the numbers on the speed-o-meter as cars passed fluidly on the fast lane in front of them, none of them daring to step over the 65 km/h limit in their presence. Her partner hadn't moved an inch since they had parked themselves in the vacant parking lot, both hands tightly clenched on the steering wheel and one foot just above the accelerator, a look of tense readiness in his eyes that made the young bluette feel uneasy.

He reminded her of a hunting cat getting ready to pounce for the kill. An absolutely boring old cat, of course.

"62... 60, 60, 61..." Today was officially the _pits_. "63, 62… 64, 66--_gawp_!"

The latter was squeaked when the old officer suddenly flicked on the siren and _crushed_ the gas pedal, sending the patrol car flying into traffic. Natsuki screamed as they almost ran into a van, squeaked nervously when she saw the rapidly approaching eighteen wheeler on the driver's side - her remote! - and let out a relieved sigh as the squad car set itself on the lane and began the chase.

"What was _that_ for? You could have killed us!" she shouted over the blear of the siren.

Instead of replying, he picked up the radio handset and said, "Rokubungi to station, Code 3-A, one above, 10-28 for H5J 7ER," with enough fluency to make Natsuki's head spin.

_"...uh... 10-4... I think_," was the radio operator's much less enthusiastic reply.

After a short-lived chase, the docile overspeeding - barely! - driver slowed to a stop on the leftmost lane. (2) Once the patrol car was parked behind it, Rokubungi turned toward Natsuki and said, "Since you aren't old enough to drive, I will have to ask you to do the intervention."

"M-ME!" Natsuki gasped. "B-But--"

"Regulations demand that at least one driving-capable officer remains in the car during the intervention, to offer assistance in case of resistance, or use the radio to call for help, or to drive the officer directly to the hospital in case of injuries."

"But I can use the radio," the little girl protested, "and I can use my powers, so I'm a better support if--"

"The rules say that I must use the remote if you summon your elements or your Child without proper authorization, and nowhere in the Traffic Control Department Regulations is it said when it is legal to authorize it. Therefore, any use of your powers will result in your collar's activation in the manner I see fit."

And Natsuki _stared _in complete shock. Without her HiME powers, she was just normal thirteen years old girl!

"Don't worry, I will complete the contravention for you; I have not forgotten you are not a sworn officer and are therefore not sanctioned to write up contraventions," he continued, completely misunderstanding her shock and confusing it instead for horror at supposedly breaking the rules. "Simply get his name, address and phone number, I can handle the rest after that. Now get going, he might decide to leave if we dally further, and might hit someone; I believe I am also allowed to use it if you show dangerous levels of disobedience."

Flinching, Natsuki reluctantly picked up the blank contravention and the pen he handed to her, then walked out of the patrol car nervously; she could feel her knees wobbling, although she wondered why; it wasn't like giving someone a contravention was as scary as stopping a murderer (been there), killing an Orphan (done that), or catching a thief (got the T-shirt he stole as a gift).

Of course, that wasn't scary nearly in the same way. Death threats and physically dangerous situations, she could handle easily enough; she was HiME, after all. Embarrassment or humiliation, well...

...she was thirteen, after all.

She had never felt so helpless since her Crowning; she did _not_ like the feeling.

The driver of the other car, a clean-shaved Japanese man wearing a blue shirt with the top two buttons undone and a mostly untied necktie, stared at her bemusedly through the door mirror as she approached, and lowered his window before she even had to ask.

"Um, excuse me, is this a joke?" he asked, "Because I'm almost late to my daughter's piano show, and she'll be mad at me for _days_ if I'm late."

Feeling utterly foolish, Natsuki felt her mood darken from fear to annoyance.

"It's no joke, you were overspeeding," she replied grumpily. Unfortunately, the driver seemed to misunderstand her bad mood as an attempt to look tough, because his bemusement turned into irritation.

"I know I didn't..." then, his irritation turned into surprise, then, to _her_ surprise, delight, "Wait, this is one of those camera jokes, isn't it? What show is it for? Where's the camera?"

"It's not a joke, and you crossed one Km/h over the limit... uh..." she faltered when his eyes widened incredulously, then sheepishly explained, "my partner is... um... _special_."

"What, he's six and a half?" the driver joked, looking around for the camera. When he didn't find one, he shrugged. "Look, kid, these shows are fun and all, but I _really_ have to go. Wait, what show is this for, anyway? Yumiko-chan might forgive me if I'm late because I'm on TV--"

Rolling her eyes, Natsuki decided to cut it as short as she could, even if she had to play along. "I'll need your name, your address and phone number."

"Wha--is there some kind of prize?" She shook her head. "Uh... well, I'm not giving my real name on TV--is there a micro somewhere? Where's the camera--is it that light over th--"

"_Please_ tell me, so we can _both_ get going."

"No need to be rude, kid... it's... uh... oh wait, I know... the name's Smith."

"Smith?" She repeated flatly; he looked as American as the emperor.

"Yes," he replied with a grin. "John Smith the third. Junior."

She rolled her eyes, wrote it down, not caring if it was true or not, then asked, "Phone number?"

"Phone number too? Um... let's see... 346-1564."

'_Hitogoroshi_. Cute,' (3) Natsuki thought as she dutifully noted it down (although she didn't get the first half of the joke, and why he had said it in English – and wasn't six supposed to pronounced Shi-ku-su and not Se-ku-su?), then asked again, "Address?"

"Address... um... 1600, _Tani ni pen_."

'1600, Pens in the valley…?' she repeated mentally with a puzzled blink, not quite getting it either, but wrote it down anyway, before setting off toward the patrol car with a flat, "Thank you."

"It might be funnier if you'd smile a bit, kid," he noted. She rolled her eyes.

Once she got to the Patrol Car's door, Rokubungi took the contravention from her hands through the open window and read it...

"Did you ask Mister Smith for proof of his ID?" he asked.

"Yes," she lied.

...without realizing the "subterfuge" at all. In record time, the dour officer had completed it, and she found herself handing a whopping five hundred yen contravention to the other driver.

"It even looks like a real one," he noted cheerfully with a grin. "So, what show am I on?"

"Camerajokers, it hasn't been announced yet," she lied. Sometimes, it was better not to hold to the truth. "The camera was in that window over there, thank you for humoring our viewer."

The driver had been too busy looking at the electronics shop she had pointed at and saying "oh, I see… clever, clever," to notice her ill-disguised jab at the overbearing Lieutenant. "Well, I have to go now," he said. "Yumiko won't forgive me if I'm _too _late. Have a nice day, Chibi-tantei!"(4) the latter was delivered in a winning tone and a matching smile that were most likely meant to whatever 'viewers' would see him, just before he closed his window and set off cheerfully.

Natsuki spared a thought to wonder how he'd react to learning he really _was_ supposed to pay five hundred yen for having crossed one Km/h over the limit (under the name of John Smith III jr., no less) as she climbed back in her seat in the police car. Once settled, she turned toward her partner.

"So, what now?" she asked.

Then, he handed her the speed-o-meter, and she started to regret it.

_At least the damn pervert had been interesting to talk to_, she thought darkly.

-

If you need to know, mister Smith Junior III ended up being late enough to earn himself a good afternoon of fussiness, but was forgiven quickly enough. His daughter never did believe him after the mysterious show never aired, but three scoops of chocolate fudge ice cream in a candy-sparkled cone proved to be an acceptable bribe to begin the conciliation talks.

-

-------------

-

In a city as tightly cramped as Tokyo, single-family houses are a rarity, usually exclusively found in richer areas of the city, such as the district this house was found into, the anime-famed Azabu-Juuban.

The house in question was two-stories tall, with a small window peeking out from the side near the driveway hinting on a basement. White-walled and black roofed, it seemed to be quite spacious and, in a city where room was a precious commodity, was obviously extremely expensive, easily in the hundreds of millions of yen. This was a house meant for a director, a university teacher, a famous artist or someone equally wealthy.

Yuuki had given an impressed whistle as he had slowed their police car to a stop in front of it. His partner had to have the facts pointed out to him before he understood.

Their client, a very attractive young woman, had opened the door when he had rung. She had an almond-shaped face fit for a model, dyed red-black hair and traits that, had they not been marred by intense worry, would have probably been absolutely stunning; as it was, they were merely beautiful to look at. Her figure was almost perfect, a bit thin at the waist perhaps, and her legs were fine and toned beneath the knee-length skirt she was wearing. Even her hands were beautiful, especially the left one, where a beautiful ornate ring that reflected the sun's light with its multiple diamonds told Yuuki she was already married.

...damn.

The woman had proceeded to tell him about her cat, Yukihime, named such ('Snow princess') from her thick coat of uniformly white fur. Yukihime was apparently a picky eater, scoffing at cat food and accepting only what the rest of the house was eating (which had caused them to eat more fish than they would have otherwise), and easily recognizable from a particularly visible case of Heterochromia; her left eye was a deep blackish green, while the other was a blue as bright as the morning sky, as shown in a picture of her the woman had shown him.

Yuuki had seen something else from that picture; the family's daughter, a pretty brunette around the brat's age (Damnit! Why were they either all taken or too young!) who had obviously taken her looks from the mother, was very much attached to this cat, as proved by how she had her arms flung around it and was grinning widely, and at how the cat didn't seem to mind the overbearing contact.

As for the case itself, Yukihime had apparently not been seen in the last four days, despite the woman's best efforts to find her. Her daughter was due to come back in two days, and she would be _devastated _if Yukihime wasn't back by then. Yuuki had assured her he would find her, and had left.

Finding lost cats wasn't all that complicated, especially if they were as distinctive and rich-bred as that one. Cats were territorial, after all, and in four days, she couldn't have gone very far. Had the cat been male, the story might have been different, as it would have been possible that another male would have chased it out of the area, but female cats tended to be much less aggressive toward one another unless they were approaching heat. He felt confident he could do it.

When he had come back to the police car, he had related this information to his partner, who had stayed in the car to, quote, "make sure no one does anything to it", unquote. To be honest, Yuuki was fairly sure he simply couldn't get up from his seat. He was willing to believe the man's bulk was stopping his blood vessels from reaching his legs.

He had replied, while pensively stroking his double chin with his fat fingers, "Four days... it could have gone anywhere. You might as well go back there and tell her we'll never find it. It's probably roadkill, by now. Or maybe some dog ate it."

…which brought Yuuki to his current situation: the realization that his new partner was truly useless. Despite repeated hints, he had completely failed to grasp where one would be most likely to find a lead on a cat who liked to eat only human food, and was very used to eating fish - a restaurant or a fisher shop - instead preferring to launch himself on some half-thought story about how the cat had most likely found its way to a garbage barge (in four days, despite the nearest access to the water being quite a distance away and thus quite outside of its range) and would be very hard to find on a Junkyard Island somewhere. If it wasn't dead already.

And he continued to believe it, even as Yuuki had explained to him the multiple reasons why this couldn't be true; the main one being that the house cat, used to the luxuries of living in a human house, would have never had the speed or the stamina to reach the shore in four days, and that, being a picky eater, it would _not_ go for trash if it could.

To which Junbo had replied an emphasis on "if it could", as if there was no other source of food for wild animals in all of Tokyo except for trash, along with some fancy story Yuuki doubted immensely about some cat managing to swim from Hokkaido to Okinawa either in 1920 or 1930 (as he had used different dates throughout the story).

_At least the brat's arguments were logical for the most part_, he reflected darkly.

And about that, he had caught the chief's message about the one-day partnerships loud and clear: "Cooperate with each other, or face the consequences". Personally, he thought the blame could mostly be put on the brat's shoulders, but he _did_ have to admit having been less than enthusiastic about it.

She was _thirteen_, for God's sake!

Just as Yuuki had expected, it had been easy to find a lead on the missing animal; about two streets away from the house, the owner of a sushi restaurant admitted to having seen and fed one such cat with leftovers just this morning. A few interrogated nearby shop owners had said to have seen it not so long ago, on Friday and Saturday; its white fur made it stick out like a sore thumb, and the eyes made it quite memorable.

Within an hour, he had made himself a fairly good idea of what its territory was - it was small, as expected, and included its mistress home within its bounds - and there were very few areas it could have made its 'home' into.

There were also few reasons for it to have escaped from its cozy home like that, and he had the sneaking suspicion he knew what it was. This suspicion was amplified by the fact that, while it had been quite active for the first two days, no one had reported seeing it yesterday, yet it had been seen, apparently very hungry, this morning.

Yes, Yuuki was seriously thinking the cat might have been pregnant, and had given birth yesterday. He cursed himself for not asking the woman if it had acted unusually or gained unexplainable weight; the daughter was young, so perhaps she couldn't tell and had simply thought it was gaining weight, and the woman had honestly not looked _that_ close to it, so it was possible she simply hadn't noticed; it _was_ a very furry cat, after all.

This meant getting Yukihime back to her mistress was going to be a chore, unless he had help to carry both the cat and the kittens.

A glance at the officer sitting on the passenger seat later, Yuuki sighed.

Now just _where_ was he going to find that help?

-

He _did_ manage to get his 'Partner' to get up when he had decided they'd gathered enough information to start looking for real, but only after threatening to tell the Chief that Junbo was being uncooperative. The obese detective seemed to be at the limit of the fearsome Chief's patience, and didn't want/couldn't afford to piss her off further, thus making her a redoubtable weapon to use against him.

The two detectives spent the next few minutes wandering in the alleys behind the shops, where Yuuki felt they had the best chance of finding their quarry. He had dismissed his partner's hungry suggestion of waiting in one of the restaurants she had visited before, as they didn't have the luxury of time to wait (at least, _he_ didn't think so, having promised to bring her back to her mistress as quickly as he could) and, mostly, because he had no wish to see him stuffing his face again.

Japanese police had a good reputation; it wouldn't do for the public to see _that_, and especially from two detectives on duty.

Junbo was complaining about being tired and hungry - that is, twenty minutes after having left the car - by the time they found her, at an intersection near a residential side-street; peerlessly white fur seeming to shine on its own under the noon sun, one brightly shining blue and one almost black eye giving the impression that one of its eyes had been switched with a sapphire or an obsidian, it saw them just as they did--

"THERE IT IS!" Junbo exclaimed, pointing. The startled cat immediately burst into a dead run back into the alley. Cursing, Yuuki followed, while his partner took two wobbly steps forward, stopped, then shouted, "I'll go back to the car… uh… someone might steal it!"

Understandably, Yuuki muttered something unrepeatable at the transparent fool (what total _idiot_ would steal a police car, anyway!). The little white blur up ahead ducked around obstacles with the grace of... well, a cat, between the rows of chain-link, wall or hedge-fenced backyards that framed the alley. Yuuki tried, but as he wasn't a cat, he ended up--

_Thump--**frap**_ "OUCH!"

...tripping over a stray garbage bag and falling on his hands, scraping them on the pebbly alley ground. Wincing and pushing himself up on his knees (wincing again at the slight strained pain in his ankle), he watched as Yukihime ducked through a hedge on the left side.

"Damn cat..." he muttered darkly.

Inspecting the fence a dozen seconds later, he discovered the cat had apparently found a part of the hedge-fence where the plant had hooked a branch into the chain-link fence below and slowly raised it with the strength of its growth; she had only had to dig a little to make herself a path under the fence. Yuuki knew there was no _way_ he was doing to make it through. Instead, he climbed a neighboring chain-link fence - "Tokyo police, just passing through," he told the alarmed grandmother sitting on the second floor balcony of the house the yard he stepped into was part of - ran all the way through to the street, turned toward the house with the hedge-fence and--  
...stopped in utter shock.

"…no way."

Yukihime had gone home on her own.

-

It had turned out to have an interesting conclusion. The mistress of the house had been completely unaware of her cat's presence in her own yard, proving Yukihime hadn't returned to her. An inspection of the fence from inside the yard had proved that there was no escape route except through the way the cat had gone through, or rather, no escape route that led _away_ from the yard.

One of the basement windows on the left side of the house, the closest side to the hedge where a few spiders had comfortably made their webs thanks to the sheer lack of visitors it received, had been open - the woman had recognized the room it had left to as a disused storage room that contained nothing old coats, extra blankets, Christmas lights or other very rarely used objects, and thus was _supposed _to remain firmly shut.

Once inside the room, mistress and cat were reunited (amidst much annoyed mewing from the latter's part) and, lying blind and naked in a warm nest of discarded blankets, a half dozen perfectly healthy day-old rat-like kittens had been found, sleeping soundly.

The woman had offered sincere apologies for the 'useless' disturbance and thanked him profusely with a struggling cat in her arms. He had replied, with a winning smile, that it had been no problem and that it was his job.

She hadn't even blushed.

Damn whoever came up with the concept of marriage, anyway.

Or maybe that was because his uniform was still dirty, and his smelled sweaty from having run so much?

He'd had plenty of time to reflect on this afterward, as it took a good half hour for his useless partner to find the street and fetch him.

-

-------------

-

"Aniki, how much longer? She's trying to bite through the gag."

"Mph---"

"Not much... Beru-kun, what time is it?"

"_Don't call me that_,_ Tetsuo_!"

"Can it with my real name, will you? She heard it!"

"Doesn't matter, she won't live long anyway."

"Mph!"

"It's... half to noon. How about we do it now?"

"Hm... let's see..." the sound of something shuffling, "heh, red: let's do it now. Bro?"

"Mpphh---"

"Don't worry, girl, this won't hurt me one bit. Hehehe."

"_Mph!_"

"H-hey, don't fight--hey-ow! Why you--OW! Stop kicking! _OW_!"

-

-------------

-

_"...seventh Orphan attack in United States territory handled by the US army's special Anti-Orphan division, known as Orphan Destruction Regiment, or OrDeR, since its inception last year. While the Orphan was indeed destroyed, the damage dealt is evaluated to be in the hundreds of millions of American dollars, and witnesses say that not only did OrDeR cause at least half the damage, but they also received substantial help from two volunteer HiMEs." _

Natsuki resisted a yawn that almost forced its way through her mouth. The news, _the_ _international news_ at that, were playing on the radio, and while the thirteen years old HiME couldn't care less about them (except, in her pride as a HiME, to give a great mental "hah!" at what common sense claimed to be stupid idea), she had to admit it was better than the stony silence that had ruled in the police car before she had managed to convince her grouch of a one-day only (thank god!) partner to turn it on.

Apparently, even semi-senile regulation freaks were still vulnerable to crocodile tears. It bore noting.

_"That's all for international news, this was Hashimoto Izumiko, for Nack5," _the monotone 'bad news' female announcer concluded, and was immediately replaced by a preppy young man with a grin in his voice and a catchy rapid beat in the background.

"_Good morning everyone, and welcome to Meister Miyavi's Musical Noontime! This is the man, the Meister himself, talking to you **live** from our studios here at 79.5, Nack5, Tokyo's number one pop music station. Let's go straight to the songs that were most requested through our number, 795-NACK, 795-6225, or our website at triple double-u dot Nack5 dot co dot jp, since this time yesterday, and please keep voting for your favorite song. In tenth position, we have, once **again**, the song that's easily the most cutely addictive song ever written; loss of one position since yesterday, we have Dimitri from Paris, with their **surprise **hit… well, you know it by now, I hope!"_

Natsuki froze. She was not a regular listener of the radio, but that name... she remembered that name… it couldn't be…

The first notes started to play and she had to _resist_ the urge to reach over and turn the radio down; it had been hard enough to convince Rockybungee that no, the radio wouldn't get in the way of their precious duties that—

Eek, here it comes--

"♫_Neko-mimi mode!_♪" (5)

-

…then the screams started.

-

-------------

-

Slow, evenly spaced and long lived guitar chords and clopping feet obviously meant to resemble the footsteps of a slowly marching horse accompanied a somewhat melodious, if depressing, mournful male voice that told of unfolding tales of woe. Every few lines, a violin went and added a lingering monotone hum while the singer took a deep, somewhat exaggerated shaky breath before resuming.

And, over it all, there was this sound, like a discordant, badly crafted fiddle being tortured by a wailing cat, that went like this:

"_Oh when za **san** raizas' ovaa za vareii, Ai'ru be bakku in yuur armzu mai Honei_"

Wincing at the sound (and vowing he would get his MP3 player unpacked as quickly as he could), Yuuki made another heartfelt wish that he could kill the radio, or at least his partner, the source of the wailing in question. It had been his bad surprise to find out the obese man currently sitting in the driver seat not only enjoyed country music (which he personally thought of as the badly sung whining of randy cowboys), but also enjoyed Karaoke.

And had an Engrish accent worthy of landing in a bad science-fiction Anime.

'He must be the life of a party,' Yuuki reflected wryly, flinching as his partner missed a particularly long and high-pitched note. 'A cancerous party in terminal phase, that is.'

As the song entered a mournful instrumental of mishandled guitars (to which Junbo hummed along, to Yuuki's horror), the Kansai detective turned to gaze outside, hoping to see something that would take his attention away from his ears' panicked pleas.

The white and black police car was close the northern limits of Minato-ku, where it shared its border with the ward of Chiyoda. The neighbor was home to the Imperial palace and most government buildings, and it showed increasingly in the surroundings as they approached the limit. A two stories tall office, home to a bank and a lawyer's office (a winning combination if he'd ever seen one), was squeezed between a large affiliated Manga shop and a jewelry shop. On the other side of the street, beyond the voluminous mass of his partner, there was some kind of small antiquity museum/shop, from where a wrinkled harried woman guiding a small flock of bored-looking kids was exiting - most likely a daycare center group, as this was golden week and thus school trips were out of question.

The car was stopped by a red light at a large intersection framed by a large sushi restaurant and an elaborate souvenir shop filled with tourists by the time the music mercifully ended. Soon after the final few notes, a tonal man with a smooth, trying-to-be-excited low pitched voice Yuuki personally found sounded like a frog croaking on a 2 piston engine started to speak.

"_You've just heard the 'ballad of the traveler' and its haunting melody_," he said ("Haunting in a 'make the dead cry for release' way, he means," Yuuki muttered under his breath), "_up next in our Greatest Country Songs of the winter, we have "Welcome home, honey", followed by "White Cow Blues"_." Yuuki groaned as guitars started again, this time accompanied by a slowly humming contrabass. "_I can guarantee you; it will rock your world_."

...and the street exploded in a shower of dust, rock and concrete.

-

-------------

-

Natsuki watched in horror as a literal cloud of debris suddenly rose about fifteen meters ahead as the street and sidewalk were ripped apart by something monstrously large bursting through it. A mini-van that had been crossing the intersection found itself thrown in the air by the blast, crashing deafeningly and skidding to a stop at the police car's side; through her window, Natsuki could see the van's driver, hanging limply upside-down by his safety belt, an ominous red strain growing in his hair.

_"_♪_Kisu, Kisu, Kisu...♫"_ the radio obliviously droned on.

Through the dust, a massive outline drew itself, at first looking like some kind of giant gorilla, but slowly defining itself as the dust settled. It was a monster that looked like an odd mix between the lobster, a scorpion, a large monkey and a mutated ant; huge reddish orange pincers rose from short stocky arms connected to an orange humanoid chest and torso, from where the body became insectlike with at least a dozen yellowish legs and two crimson scorpion tails sticking out of a large abdomen. Its head, as red as the rest of it, was that of an ant's, complete with two pairs of sharp-looking mandibles, elbowed spindly antennas and---

_"♪Neki-mimi mode de!♫"_

...and ridiculous, furry, orange _cat ears_ on its head.

Even as she looked, those little ears swiveled around, attracted by the screaming of a small group of terrorized children. With unexpected swiftness, the Orphan whirled toward them, one of its scorpion tails accidentally ramming into and shattering the front windows of the Sushi restaurant in front of Natsuki and Rokubungi's car amidst the terrorized screams of the patrons inside. Then, its many angular legs started to move, pushing the beast forward with surprising speed toward the children.

"Shit!" Natsuki cursed, throwing her door open and materializing her elements. Another Orphan! This _had_ to be some kind of record!

She made six steps toward the monster before--

"Kuga-dono, you will dematerialize your Elements and get back in the car this instant," Rokubungi ordered. Natsuki wouldn't have listened, had he not been holding her remote in his hand with his thumb perilously close to the green button.

-

-------------

-

The instant the Orphan had turned to look at the kids, Yuuki had known it was about to attack them; its body, albeit as alien as could be, seemed to be tensing up for attack. He also knew they didn't have a chance to fight against the onslaught, and they were far too terrified to run; they clung in horrified panic to their teacher's legs, herself unable to move out of fear, and even if they could, the way it had adeptly spun on itself in surprisingly little time, he knew it could move much faster than them.

The idea of not helping them did not even cross his mind.

What did, though, were what options he had to stop it; jumping out and catching its attention was a gamble; there was no telling if it would even look at him, and if it didn't, they were doomed. Japanese Police officers do not carry guns, with which he could have at _least _made it look his way – it was a well known fact that even a Tank couldn't take out a rampaging Orphan – but the street was littered with enough jump from the cracked street that…

…yeah, that could work. But what then? The Orphan would just chase his way, and he would be in those kids' shoes—

The car! Of course! He could use it to trip it, hopefully for long enough to let him, his partner and the kids escape!

Plan in mind, he shoved the passenger door open and jumped out—

"Wh-Where—"

"Oyama," Yuuki interrupted, "ram the car into its legs on my signal!"

"Wha—"

He didn't wait for the rest of his partner's answer before picking up two stones from the ground and aiming at the charging Orphan; it had just started to move forward, but had already crossed the street – an unfortunate pole holding a streetlight above the ruined pavement found itself in its path and was promptly shoved out of the way by a careless push of its pincers; the metal tube bent with a deafening creak and the base was easily torn out of the sidewalk.

The first stone flew too far right, flew right in front of its multiple mandibles before crashing through the second floor window behind it; the monster didn't even blink. The second one, struck a raised pincer in the process of crushing a parking meter, and harmlessly bounced off with a somewhat hollow plastic-like sound.

"KYAAAHH!"

The screams of one of the little kids grew shriller and galvanized the rest into starting to run. It was too late, though. The monster was nearly on them. Cursing, Yuuki picked up a third piece of pavement, desperately aimed...

…and lady luck smiled on him. The monster suddenly stopped and let out a surprised shriek, which sounded like rusty breaks trying to stop an overspeeding bus, as its face became closely acquainted with low-hanging power cables hanging between the small museum and a nearby utility pole, causing a crackle of electricity. His target immobilized, Yuuki threw the rock; it flew a bit high, but clipped its cat-like ear as it passed--

_"--SCREE---!"_

To Yuuki's surprise, the monster let out a sudden shriek and moved one of its enormous pincers toward its head, to protect the obviously sensitive ears. The sudden movement tore two of the cables straight off the building they connected to with a bright flash of lightning and a sharp electric snap, and the rest were tugged sharply as it turned its head to stare with unreadable yellowish compound eyes at the detective.

Good. He had its attention. Now to drive it away from the buildings so Oyama could ram into it. The intersection was a waste and the streets peppered with debris, but there was fortunately a path for the police car to take, all he had to do was bait it and stay far enough to avoid its pincers; a difficult thing, considering that, had the electric cables not been hampering its movements, it was at about two seconds from reaching him.

The cables, though, held it back for a few seconds, at least until it gave a sharp _tug_ and tore them off right the concrete utility pole, giving enough time for Yuuki to run to the other side of the street. Almost as soon as it started to run, he made the signal toward the police car (doing his best to ignore the way the Orphan had _shoved_ the utility pole out of its path, breaking it sharply at the base), then waited...

_"**VRRR**---!" _

He welcomed the revving of the police car's engine with a smile, not taking his eyes away from the monster - just in case it was smart enough to tell his plan. However, the smile soon vanished...

"--_**VR**RRrrr_rrr..."

...when the sounds of the car grew dimmer. Risking a look, he saw the white and black car performing a beautiful backward U-turn, moving _away_ from them as quickly as it could.

His cowardly partner had bailed.

"**FUCK**!"

And in front of him, the Orphan's massive pincer rose toward him. There was little doubt as to what it was planning to do: crush him to a bloody pulp. Yuuki tensed, getting ready to jump out of the way...

-

-------------

-

Natsuki watched as the Orphan dashed forward, leaving the pavement behind it peppered with holes made by each of its ten back legs, running toward the children who stupidly remained rooted in place. Instincts bred over four years of dangerous police work screamed at her to go for it and help. Her conscience was doing the same, and only her sense of self-preservation, drunk and generally ignored slob as it was, was holding her back. Not because of the danger, as she wouldn't be much of a HiME if she was scared of a fight, but because--

"Kuga-dono, this is your last warning," Rokubungi said, with that thrice damned remote in his hand. "You will dematerialize your elements and reenter the car or face the consequences."

...but because of _that_.

"B-But--" the Orphan screeched; she gave a look and found it to be entangled in electric cables. Good, that meant it wasn't too smart. Still, it _had_ shoved a lamp post out of its path as if it was nothing, so she didn't expect a bunch of rubber and tin cables to hold it back for long. She had to hurry. "But those kids! That Orphan's going to kill them!"

"Slaying Orphans is not among the duties of the Tokyo Police's Traffic Control Division, and there are in fact rules against officers entering situations they are not properly equipped to handle." She opened her mouth, but he continued, "and before you mention them, your Elements may not be used under the current rules, not without demanding authorization. I'm afraid those children may not be saved legally."

"Screw the r---" she cut herself off and forced herself to calm down. She could not afford to piss him off now, not with his thumb so close to that damn button. If she was knocked out, she would lose, those kids would lose and everyone who would be hurt would lose.

The Orphan let out a strident screech; something had hurt it. Was it another HiME?

No, focus. She had to find a way to convince Rokubungi that she had every right to help. There _had_ to be _some way_…

Some way… some loophole…

Law… Yes, that's it…

What would that woman be saying right now? What would she say… something…

"_Your Honor, laws are the guidelines of society. They exist to protect the innocent from those unscrupulous who would seek to harm them, and to insure Justice is given to those who deserve it. Yet there are moments when they act in unexpected ways to harm those who have not wronged intentionally." _

…yes, she would have said that. She _had_ said that. But in this situation…

No, Rokubungi would not bend. Rules and laws seemed to be sacred and unbendable to him…

Wait… rules…

"_-Did you ask Mister Smith--"_

That's it! He probably was gullible enough that...

Thinking quickly, she asked, "How much to you know about the HiMEs' rules?"

He frowned pensively. "Nothing, why is it of relevance?"

Excellent, she thought with a mental smirk. This meant he didn't know there was no such thing.

"One of the first rules is that HiMEs _have_ to fight and kill Orphans whenever we see them," she lied semi-smoothly; they had no such obligations. From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash near a utility pole; a bunch of electric cables that had been hampering the Orphan were breaking rapidly. In front of her, Rokubungi seemed thoughtful, as if considering her words. She hammered the last nail, "and I'm not _really_ a police officer, but I _am_ a HiME, so those rules have priority, right?"

Please say yes, please say yes…

"I was not aware of this law," Rokubungi said after a short pause. "The rules about your collar are clear that you need an authorization to use your abilities, and that law, I believe, is sufficient." The seal came back down over the green button, to Natsuki's relief. "You should have informed me of this earlier."

Deciding she had wasted enough time convincing her stupidly rule-loving hopefully-not-partner-for-much-longer, she turned toward the Orphan; it was walking toward a blue-clad figure standing in the middle of the street, apparently intent on crushing whoever it was to a pulp. She cursed people stupid enough to hang around with Orphans about, and set off to do her "job".

"**DURHAN!**"

-

-------------

-

"I should have stayed away from Tokyo…"

It was funny how being in danger of death seemed to slow everything down to a crawl, Yuuki reflected as he watched the pincer high above him. He could have sworn it had been standing in that pose for whole minutes before the enormous claw started to go down. It was too big to avoid, moved too fast to dodge, and was far too massive to block There was no way, he knew, he could survive this.

So, he closed his eyes…

_--shhhhhhhHHHHH!-_**YANK**! "Garg--!"

--and was promptly yanked off his feet by something grabbing him by the uniform collar, something small and cold that definitely had _fingers_, that was moving very rapidly and, perhaps above all, was cursing in a familiar lilted voice.

"Tanuki! Agh--You're heavy damnit!"

"Kuga!" He gasped, moving to look—

"DON'T MOVE!" She shouted in alarm. Too late, it seemed, as both suddenly found themselves airborne as the little girl lost her balance on whatever she had been riding. Her little hand let go of his collar a few instants before his shoulder hit the rapidly moving ground. He then entered a painful and dizzying series of rolls that left him bruised, scratched and feeling like he had spent the whole morning in the spin dryer.

"That _hurt_ damnit!" came from the girl. He stretched his neck to look at her and saw she had come out of the rolls with nothing more than a headache betrayed by her body language and a tear at the knee of her baggy, tomboyish jeans; the white glow of her Elements' shields flickered and vanished from around her upper arms even as he looked. Her brilliant green eyes turned toward his with a sour frown.

"You eat too much," she said.

"You're the skinny one," he replied while getting up on all four to stand up, wincing as his body protested.

The Orphan, somewhat behind him, was raising its massive pincer from the jagged crater it had left in the pavement, its face looking in their direction. He could tell, though, that he was no longer its focus. Antennas waving, all four mandibles moving in a semi-random pattern, it was obviously looking at the bigger danger: Natsuki and her Ch--

--Holy Sh---

His thoughts were derailed when he saw the wolf-Child again. Hovering a short distance behind the little bluette, it seemed to have lost its feet; the holes there they had been were glowing oddly, as if extremely thin smoke was blowing in front of a light inside them. Its shape had changed lightly, and the more he looked at it, the more it looked like...

...like some kind of freaky heavily armed wolf-styled _hoverbike_. And even as he looked, its leg-stumps/jet engines spun towards the ground, and the metallic claws popped out. The little girl noticed his boggling and welcomed it with a grin.

"Isn't he cool?" she asked.

"Wh-wh--" Oh great, so now she had a built-in _bike_, too? Never mind a flying one! Collecting himself, he gave her a flat stare. "Brat, if you tell me it can turn into a giant Mecha, I'll hurt you."

The wolf let out a menacing growl; the girl pacified it with a pat of her hand and a whisper of something he couldn't hear, then turned toward him with a shrug. "Fine, I won't. Behind you."

"Uh?" He looked--

_"AH!" _

--and quickly dashed out of the Orphan's path a few seconds before it run over where he had been standing. Ignoring him, it continued its dash toward the little girl, who grinned savagely and fired her element-guns.

When the cold blasts splashed harmlessly against the chest of the monster's lobster-like carapace, her grin vanished. With no prompting on her part, the wolf ducked its head between her legs and pushed up; she found herself sitting on the back of its neck between its cannons, with no hint of surprise even touching her face. The Child then avoided the Orphan's attacking pincer with surprising agility; in one jump, it reached and bounced off the small museum, leaving small claw dents in the brick next to a second story window, then landed in the middle of the street behind the Orphan.

"Load Chrome Cartridge-FIRE!" Natsuki shouted, her hands going to her ears a second before her Child fired the High explosive shells. Unfortunately, the Orphan had whirled around fast enough to bring up those damned pincers and---

**---_BANG_!---**

...block the shots with a minimum of damage on its part. The little girl made an irritated noise.

"Load Silver Cartridge, FIRE!" she shouted, and her Child obeyed as before. And, like the last time he had seen that blast, the shell divided in thousands of ice shards that struck the pincers...

...and froze them solid. The savage grin returned in the bluette's face. "LOAD CHROME CARTRIDGE!"

Understanding her plan, he grinned... and quickly took cover behind a utility pole, feeling quite useless and in the way.

"FIRE!"

**---_BOOOM!_---**

Smoke and wind flew past him around the pole, ruffling his uniform and long hair. A flying rock ricocheted off his makeshift cover with a _crack_ that was frightfully close to his ear, while a large piece of something _orange_ flew a dozen feet to his right, right into the window of the bank beneath the lawyer's office, shattering it with a deafening shower of glass. The Orphan's screech made the rest of the soundscape. Once the worst of it seemed to be over, he quickly looked beyond the pole.

Both of its titanic arms were flailing around, spreading purple ichor from their tips where very _white_ flesh was visible beneath the jaggedly cut hole that had once been deadly weapons. The pincers, weakened by the cold, had been completely blown away. In front of it, the wolf-riding little girl gave a loud whoop of victory.

"Load Silver Cartridge!" she shouted, waited for the ammunition to enter the cannons, then shouted: "Fi--awp?"

Or, at least, she tried to; one of the Orphan's two scorpion-like tails was suddenly flung forward at such blinding speeds that Yuuki was quite surprised Durhan even had the time to jump backward to dodge it, nearly throwing the little girl off its neck. The second tail flew forward and was also narrowly dodged while the first was retracted only to strike forward again like a whip, leaving deep gouges in the pavement as it missed the agile Child and its mistress (who was hanging for dear life on one of its cannons, looking like she wished she was anywhere but where she was).

Green eyes narrowed. The wolf, reacting to an unvoiced command, suddenly leapt sideways toward the Museum, rebounding off the wall once again--

**---CRASH!---**

--barely in time to avoid the tail that smashed the brick wall into as much rubble, and landing behind it...

Correction. Landing on what _had_ been behind it; in another display of formidable agility for something its size, the Orphan had started to spin around as soon as Durhan had touched the wall, and so when the metal wolf landed, it found itself facing the Orphan's front again. Worse, it had one tail raised and sent it forward before they had even landed. Natsuki stared in horror as she saw the pointed tip heading straight for her chest and found herself taking it directly--

"KUGA!" Yuuki yelled in alarm.

-

-------------

-

The damn thing was _fast_.

Natsuki had fought her fair share of Orphans in the past, from the extremely weak like yesterday's mutated Koosh Ball to some that would have caused an army to turn and run with their tails between their legs. This one, she decided, didn't score very high in terms of attack strength (breaking walls and tearing through the street? Big deal.), but in terms of annoyance, there were very few Orphans she'd fought that were _nearly_ as irritating as this one.

First, there was its shell; she had tested it with rapid element blasts, and it seemed the rest of it was as solid as the pincers had been, or at least the parts she had tested were; she had tried to get to its back, but the damn thing had moved too fast for her to try.

Which brought her back to the second problem; the damn thing was _fast._ She was halfway tempted to have Durhan take a silver shot at its legs; the only reason she didn't was because materializing them were a strain on her Child, and she knew she would need as much of his strength as possible to break its shell for the killing blow. She had thought blasting off the pincers would have made it an easy target, but it had recovered its wits too far quickly and started using those damned _tails_, forcing her to take evasive actions that took her to her current situation; standing directly in front of it, staring at its upraised tail, twitching in a pattern she had been quick to recognize as a signal to attack.

'Move,' she sent to Durhan through the link she shared with him as his HiME.

'Overbalanced,' he sent back in fewer words than basic feelings. 'Worry, protect self'

With a mental curse, she raised her arms and triggered her shields, just in time to block the tail; the bone-jarring impact sent her clearly off Durhan's neck in a low flight that sent her rolling on the pavement (she vaguely noticed her partner shouting her name in alarm). The shield _had_ accomplished its purpose, though, as the skewer-ended tail did not come close to piercing her flesh, and she came out of the rolls without a scratch.

That, however, did not mean she wasn't hurt; while the shield had acted brilliantly to keep danger away from her, it had done nothing to cushion the impact of the tail, and thus when Natsuki tried to push herself up—

****

…she fell back down on the pavement with a gasp of pain, her shoulders burning from being pretty badly sprained. She felt a sudden surge of alarm from Durhan that made her look up; the extended tail that had struck her had curled tightly around her Child's flanks and was now holding him up about five meters above the ground, even as its many feet pushed its massive body forward toward her, its second tail raised for the kill. Natsuki _knew_ she wouldn't be able to block another shot.

She was done for.

However, it continued to approach even as she came inside what she knew was within its tail's range, only stopping when it was less than four meters from her. Its arm-stumps rose and, for an instant, Natsuki wondered if it wanted to humiliate her by pounding her flat with them, but even as she looked, the stumps in question _twitched_ and bubbled, as if something was pushing behind the faded grey flesh, and—

_SPPLRSHHH!_

And the pincers regenerated with an explosion of purple ichor that splattered across the ruined street; the furthest drops reached the sidewalks on both sides. Shoulders still screaming, Natsuki could do little more than turn her head away as it splashed against her, staining her hair with its cold, sticky and jelly-like substance. She, therefore, didn't see it raise its pincers for the killing blow, didn't see (though she _did_ feel) Durhan twist futilely in its solid grip…

…didn't see Yuuki throwing another rock at it, bumping against the upraised pincers to fall down on its cat-like ears---

"_SKREEEEE!" _

Though she certainly heard it screech, and—

"Gawp?"

--felt the newly released Durhan pick her up by the hood of her shirt by its jaws – _skrrt _went the fabric as it tore – and haul her on his back, speeding away from the Orphan in Hoverbike mode. She settled herself more comfortably on its back, then caught the gist of what had happened from her link (though only vaguely, as basic feelings did very little to transmit complex ideas); something about… a rock?

'The damn thing can take Durhan's blasts without flinching, but it's hurt by a damn _rock_?' she thought disbelievingly as she and Durhan spun around to face the Orphan again…

Or rather, to face its left flank, as it had turned to target the source of the thrown rock, a certain Kansaijin police officer hiding behind a utility pole, who had apparently just noticed he was about to get squashed flat…

-

-------------

-

'OhShitOhShitOhShit' was the mantra that repeated itself infinitely in Yuuki's mind. Throwing the rock had been a good idea, judging from the lack of Natsuki paté on the pavement. It had, however, visibly _pissed_ the Orphan, who was now getting ready for some good old retribution. Fortunately, he had a utility pole between him and the Orphan...

...the Orphan who then casually reached forward and _crushed _the offending pole at the base with its pincers before casually tossing it aside as if the massive concrete pole weighed nothing more than a bicycle.

'OhShit,' Yuuki repeated again, bursting into a run. At full pace, he was a little faster than it was, but he knew very well he didn't have the stamina to keep it up for long enough to escape it. He couldn't even pretend to have a chance against it if it caught him.

There was only one way to survive; to hide inside a building and hope the brat recovered fast enough. However, there was only one building between him and the shattered intersection; a sportswear shop. He reached its door easily and put his whole weight into pushing it open; it didn't work. Doing the same while pulling had the same result.

The door was locked shut.

Through the window, he saw the cashier curiously peeping from behind the counter, eyes wide in fear.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Yuuki screamed, hoping he would hear. To his relief, the cashier _had_ heard; with a few harried nods, he moved around the counter and fished in his pocket for the keys...

...which he dropped in shock the instant he looked up at Yuuki again. The Kansaijin saw the shadow that had fallen over him and slowly turned around, knowing perfectly what he would see there.

The Orphan was right there, pincer raised and ready to crush him to a pulp--

"_HEADS UP!_"

--Wha--"**URK**!"

For the second time, the little girl that was his partner came swooping on her bike-Child to yank him off his feet by the collar (strange, her hand felt oddly firmer this time around...). This time, though, she held firm and carried him away from the battle, guiding Durhan toward the roof of the large-scale Sushi restaurant. He was released on the rooftop a few seconds later, although he _wished_ it had been shorter; he was fairly sure the fear of being dangled several meters over the ground by his uniform's thin fabric held by a girl he could probably pick up with one arm had cut a few years from his life. And at the very least, his uniform had served very well to cut off his breathing; he took a few seconds after landing getting his breath back and massaging his neck. When she felt he was fine enough to answer, Natsuki, still sitting on the once more quadruped Durhan, spoke:

"You hurt it. Tell me how."

"I don't know," he replied truthfully. "I think it has something sensitive on top of its head -- maybe those antenna or those ears, I'm not sure..."

"Hn... worth a try," she muttered, "thanks."

And the wolf's legs slunk inwards, transforming it into its Hoverbike mode again, and they flew back toward the Orphan, leaving him alone on the rooftop. Fortunately, he could use the access stairs to go down and--

...wait a sec, hadn't she been a bit far to be holding him? And where had she found the strength to carry him?

A stray gust of wind game him a final clue in the form of an unusual chill on its back. A quick inspection of his uniform's back found large holes near the collar, as if something sharp like a pair of pikes had run through it.

Pikes, or fangs. Like the fangs of a certain metal wolf. Not an inch from his neck. Catching him at high speeds.

That little----! She _was_ out to kill him!

-

-------------

-

It had indeed been the ears, as Natsuki had tested. A single blast from her Elements had proved to be enough to make it screech like a wounded cat and turn her way again, pincers raised protectively. This time, though, Natsuki wasn't about to let it take the offensive and continued to fire at its head, even though its pincers blocked the way; the chill her blasts caused was apparently enough of an incentive to force it on the defense even as she circled around it.

However, while she reveled in _finally_ causing it some pain that didn't involve Durhan's cannons, she could plainly see she wasn't doing anything permanent. She would need to use Durhan after all.

Using the link, she took control of the ever-obedient Durhan, slowed down sharply and turned toward the Orphan. Neither liked to shoot while in hoverbike mode because, without proper grounding, the recoil was hell to recover from. However, she didn't have time to shoot that she was forced to strafe up with enough strength to bump her chin against her Child's metal back; the Orphan had thrown a tail she had barely avoided in time. She found herself once again moving in a circle, firing her guns to keep it distracted while trying to think up a plan.

How had it known she had stopped, though? With those pincers blocking its face, there was no way it could have seen her, and it didn't seem to have any other eyes anywhere else...

--_shhhhh_--

A momentary lull in the battle brought her the answer; it had to have been following the sound of Durhan's engines! If its ears were excellent, that would explain why they were so sensitive - even Orphans didn't usually have a weakness like that without a good reason.

But then, if it guided itself by its ears, it meant...

...yes, she decided. That would work.

She moved Durhan under the sole remaining street light and grabbed the pole it hung from in passing, using the momentum this gave her to swing her slight weight up on it (wincing at the pain this caused in her sore shoulders). She settled herself shakily on it, wishing it wasn't too big for her to close her small hands around it, or at least that the ground was closer.

"Ooh boy... just think of it like a big tree with just one branch, Natsuki," she muttered to herself while locking her legs around it.

As she has expected (read: hoped), the Orphan continued to face Durhan as he circled around it, pincers raised in defense; its ears were apparently sensitive enough that it didn't want to risk exposing them to her guns, even to check if she was even still on Durhan.

Steadying her balance on the pole with one arm, she pointed the gun in the other at the back of its ears and aimed carefully, grinning. It was going to regret focusing on her Child.

With pinpoint precision, the rapid-fire shots she launched at its ears hit their target and froze both of its ears solid. The screech it gave was like nails forcefully gouging trenches into a blackboard, and in its sudden _flinch_, one of its tails **slammed** down into the lawyer's office with enough strength to shatter it completely and cause the walls of the bank below to buckle ominously. It was quick to turn around and protect its weak point against her, however, and started walking toward her, its body tilting unsteadily as it navigated on the ruined street through a haze of pain.

Natsuki grinned. Perfect.

"FIRE!"

**BANG!** went Durhan's cannons as he finally shot the silver shells it had loaded previously. The ice blast hit the Orphan's backside and froze it solid as she had hoped, but through the overwhelming pain from its frostbitten ears, it didn't seem to notice and continued to approach her.

"Load chrome cartridge!" she ordered, getting a bit nervous. It was almost in range of hitting her with its tails…

'Loading,' she felt from Durhan.

Then she noticed it; a certain _twitch_ in its left tail, the signal she had been dreading. It was about to strike.

'HURRY!' she sent.

'Ready!' Durhan returned.

"FIRE!" she screamed, bringing up her shields as the spiked tail shot forward—

-

**-----BOOOOOM-----**

-

Pieces of the Orphan's carapace flew from their normal positions as the HE shells _rammed_ through its weakened back, penetrated the weak flesh beneath and _exploded_ from inside. The tail, on its momentum alone, barely missed chopping her leg off as it flew too low, until it reached it maximum length at which point it _fell_ downward forcefully, digging a final crater in the pavement. Its purple ichor-blood covered the street, but even as she looked, it and the Orphan's body itself burst into bright green flames and disintegrated in a smoke of green sparks.

It was dead. She had won.

Natsuki let out a relieved sigh. It slowly turned into a small giggle, which quickly grew to a loud laugh that echoed in the empty, devastated street.

"Oh yeah! Who's the best!" she crooned, bouncing on her precarious perch.

-

Durhan brought her down on an intact piece of pavement in front of the sushi shop around the same time Yuuki walked out of it. He little girl gave her partner a victorious grin.

"Did you see?" She said with childish excitement. "That, mister, is what a HiME can do if she lets loose! Hah! You saw me kick its sorry ass, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied off-handedly. "you did pretty well, once you figured out what to shoot."

The little girl petulantly crossed her arms and huffed. Her Child gave him a ferocious growl, making him back off a bit.

"Kuga-dono," came from the side; it was Rokubungi, walking toward them, with the bluette's remote in his hand with the green button unsealed. "The Orphan has been neutralized, your authorization to have your Child and Element materialized is therefore retracted. You will dematerialize within the next five seconds, or I will use this."

The metal wolf gave another growl and moved protectively in front of Natsuki. Rokubungi frowned.

"If your Child moves any closer, I will activate your collar. You have five seconds to make them vanish. Five, Four..."

Yuuki gave a look at Natsuki, seeing her horrified look and the way she had her hands clenched around her Elements…

"Three,"

...he remembered her saving his life _twice_ during the fight...

"Two,"

…and decided to intervene.

"One---"

"I'll authorize it," he said, interrupting Rokubungi's countdown.

"On what grounds? There are no rules in the Investigation Department's regulations that say when a HiME can use her powers--"

"But it doesn't say anywhere when she can't, right?" Then, quickly just in case there _was_ such a rule, he continued, "Besides, she's my partner."

"That is inaccurate," Rokubungi protested. "Kuga-dono is my partner for the day, and we have proven to be a sufficient enough team to make it permanent."

He gave a surprised glance at the little girl, wondering if she _really_ approved, and the look on her face told him she did _not_, in any sense of the word, agree with Rokubungi's words.

"Too bad, my partner was... unsatisfactory," Yuuki replied with as much diplomacy as he could; he was sure the words 'was a useless fat ass who really should get himself kicked out of the police force' would be looked down on by someone as protocol-loving as Rokubungi.

"That is unfortunate. Fortunately, your division doesn't require a partner as much as mine, therefore you can continue your functions without one."

Ok. This wasn't working. What---oh wait...

"About your partnership's success, maybe you should try asking _her_ what she thinks?" And there we go. The ball's in your field, brat.

"Hm... I believe so. Kuga-dono, our partnership was efficient, was it not?"

The little girl blinked once, then twice, as if surprised someone was letting her choose what she wanted, before turning to Rokubungi and slowly replying, "If we're... a good team...? Hell, no! You're a boring stick in the mud, you're too uptight, your job is boring and frankly, I'd choose to be partnered to the _janitor_ before I'd pick you. Forget it."

Yuuki snorted while Rokubungi's mouth gaped in absolute shock. The little girl crossed her arms and grinned in satisfaction, as if she'd been waiting for a chance to do that all day.

"So, that's it. I'll take her key back," Yuuki said as he picked the remote control from the older officer's unresisting hands, flipped the seal back on the green button and put it back in his pocket.

"Th-This is most irregular... I... I'll file a complaint..." the aged officer muttered.

"Hmhn," the Kansaijin noised with an uncaring nod. Both partners watched the aged officer shakily board his car, perform a textbook u-turn before rolling away just below the speed limit.

"Um... thanks," Natsuki said after a few seconds of silence. "Why did you help me, though?" Yuuki shrugged.

"Well, first, I need a ride. My 'partner' bailed with mine. Don't ask," he added quickly when she seemed to be about to do exactly that. "Second, do I really need a reason? And third, you saved my life back there."

"Twice!" She reminded him with a cheerful grin.

"I saved you back once--oh, and about that, thanks for almost letting your Child bite my head off back there."

"I did not!" She protested immaturely as they mounted Durhan's back.

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Had Durhan's eyes been visible, they would have rolled upward. As it was, Natsuki was fairly sure he had sighed at some point.

-

-------------

-

Haruko hated FreeCell. The main reason for that is that she was awful at it. The other reason is that she only played it when she was utterly bored, and thus by association, she had grown to dislike it. Damn the chief and blocking out dating contact sites from her terminal, anyway. She had never felt desperate enough to use them herself (yet), but there were some major Beefcakes to look at there. She could have used all the extra time she found herself with fishing around for them...

'course, most of them didn't stand a candle-in-a-typhoon of a chance faced with the station's newest recruit. Given the chance, now _there_ was one man whom she'd love to--

_--squeak--_ "-ost ripped off my shirt!"

--rip off his--eh!

"Did not! I have more control than that!"

--EGADS?

Haruko stared in shock as the aforementioned beefcake and his tart-sized partner stepped in, arguing as they always did. As they headed toward the changing rooms - together, him talking about her ripping off his shirt, itself bearing suspicious large holes near the neck-- and wasn't Princess walking oddly? - Haruko's mind leapt the short distance it had to go to enter the realm of dirty thoughts with practiced ease and a smile at the customs.

"Just put on another shirt and I'll get my mayonnaise."

Mayonnaise: white substance with an odd consistency.

"Yeah, yeah... I have no idea how you can stuff so much of it down your throat, though."

Stuff down the throat.

"Hey, don't knock it 'till you've tried it!"

----!

And the door closed behind them. It opened again a few minutes later to let the two partners leave for their lunch break. A short while later, her friend Eriko passed a hand in front of her face and asked if she was all right. Haruko gave no answer, shell-shocked as she was. One of the other administration bunnies later told her she saw smoke pouring out of the brunette's ears.

-

-------------

-

Shizuru sighed and closed her book, finally giving up. She had spent most of the day trying to focus through the worry she was feeling for her closest friend, but to no avail; she had, at most, read one or two pages, and if someone had asked her what _were_ on those pages, she would have had to divert the question somehow to avoid answering an embarrassing "I do not know".

She looked at the clock. It was nearly five in the afternoon; Natsuki should be back any time, now…

The rumble of a car stopping outside the building made Shizuru smile in relief. Setting the book aside, she stood and went to the front door, then waited. The handle turned, then the door opened, allowing her most precious friend inside.

"Oka-erinasai," she said, barely managing to stop her surprise at the state of Natsuki. Her clothes were dirty, her jeans had a bunch of impressive rips in them, her hoodie had two large holes, like something had bitten it through, and her hair, normally silky-soft and smooth, was a mess. Her body language told of exhaustion, but her lips were smiling as she replied:

"Ah… Tadaima."

"How was your day?" Shizuru asked, although what she had _wanted_ to ask was 'what the hell happened?', which would have been entirely improper. She had expected some long tired tirade about it being the worst day ever, or some off-handed comment about police work being a total drag, but to her surprise, the other HiME shrugged dismissively.

"It could have been worse," she replied, then winced as she pushed some of her hair behind her shoulder. "Urgh, I need a bath."

Shizuru blinked in surprise as Natsuki stepped past her. Hadn't Akitori-san assured her Natsuki would be placed with the worst possible candidate? 'it could have been worse'?

Bath?

"I will join you," she said. Natsuki only shrugged.

-

-------------

-

The next morning, Haruko welcomed them with a variation of what she always seemed to say:

"Captain Kumaji wants to see you two in the briefing room."

"Kuma-jiji? Why?"

"If it's about Roku-what's-his-name, no matter what he wrote in his complaint, we can explain--"

Haruko smiled and interrupted: "It's not about that - the complaint he gave us is currently being treated by the proper authorities at the recycling center. No, he wants to see you because there was a theft; a jewlery near the border with Chiyoda."

The partners shared a troubled glance as it registered.

That's where the attack had happened.

A theft at an Orphan attack, just like that time at the fruit shop.

Could it be…?

-

-

**Author's notes**:

I _swear_ this chapter wasn't this long on paper, either. I mean, at first, I was worried it wouldn't be long enough! But the battle stretched on an on… I created a pretty tough critter for Natsuki to smack around… Or be smacked around by, as it may be XD

Orphan Destruction Regiment (OrDeR)... to redeem myself, I have three words to say: Generable Enigmatic Matrix (GEM). 'nuff said. (Couldn't they at least have used Energy instead!)

I _seriously_ doubt Neko-mimi mode was a musical success in Japan (if it was, it'll only steel my thesis that the Japanese are certifiably insane, no offense intended), but the idea jumped into my head and wouldn't let go. If you haven't heard it, count yourself lucky; that song gets stuck in your head and stays there for _days_.

The battle scene was fun to write, if a headache to organize. I hope the Orphan was intimidating enough XD

BTW: the musical notes are respectively Alt+14 and Alt+13 using the numpad. There's lots of signs you can write that way, but strangely, every time I try to make a list for further reference, I can't seem to get past code 245 without causing a monumental crash… Hn.  
If you didn't see them, blame Fanfiction(dot)net's Nazi anti-formatting rules.

About that, I sent a pretty complete complaint letter through the bug report. Didn't get an answer yet, my letter is officially "open". Taking bets on whether or not I'll ever get a response... not.

**Japanese notes: **

(1): Shochou means Chief of Police, which I _would_ have simply ignored in favor of Chief Constable, but it wouldn't have worked with the honorific –dono, itself an archaic, unusual and respectful honorific; it just sounded right ;;

(2): Japanese drive on the left side, so the left lane is the slow one.

(3): 1 can be read Hito, 5 is go, 6 is ro, 4 is shi; Hitogoroshi means murderer. It's a pretty common pun.

(4): Chibi-Tantei means "cute little Detective".

(5): "Nekomimi mode" literally means "Cat ears mode", and is one of the über-cute opening songs of the Loli-scented anime Tsukuyomi Moon Phase.


	5. Chapter 4: Red Herring

The briefing room was located on the third floor of the Minato Ward Police Headquarters. It was a very large room that could, if needed, house half of the ward's police force, though usually, like that morning, only a handful of seats were taken. Today's occupants were Kuga Natsuki, Detective Tanaka Yuuki, Captain Kumaji, Researcher Ichidouji Eriko (though she was fiddling with the tray-mounted projector at the moment) and, because she could go wherever she damned pleased, Chief Akitori.

"Ah, there we go," Eriko muttered to herself as the projector started up, first displaying a computer's desktop on a white screen up front, but launching into what was obviously the recording of a security camera.

The camera had been strategically placed in the upper right corner of the corner of the jewelry shop, behind the counter where the cashier, a person whose shoulder-length black hair betrayed as being a young woman, yawned in boredom. Or, at least, her hands hinted so. The room beyond the counter had three glass-sealed stalls full of glittering gems with large fluorescent lights over them, and had otherwise no interesting features except for the door and the window, in which a familiar street and museum were plainly visible.

"11:26... that's around the time the attack happened," Yuuki noted, looking at the numbers in the corner of the displayed image.

A few seconds later, a black Toyota Hiace, a large old van with a sliding door and windows that were both tinted and curtained, slowed to a stop in front of the shop. It stayed there, completely still, for about 5 minutes, more than long enough for the assembled police officers to see it as suspicious and correctly guess the thief or thieves were inside it.

01/05, 11:31, told the numbers on the screen.

"Ah, see, that's me and Oyama," he said, pointing as a squad car passed in front of the shop. Almost as soon as the car had passed by, the side door of the van opened a tiny bit and _something_ inhuman the size of a small dog crawled out, disappearing below the ledge of the window.

"The Orphan," Natsuki mumbled, continuing louder with a tone of disbelief, "They were carrying an Orphan in their van!"

"Where did it go?" Yuuki wondered. "If it went on the sidewalk, someone would have spotted it and spread a panic or something…"

"It probably went down the water drain," Natsuki guessed. "It should pop out at the crossing soo---er, now," the latter was delivered as a cloud of dust flowed down the street. A second later, people ran in the same direction as the cloud, mouths open in screams that were not captured by the video-only camera. The cashier got up to take a peek outside and, like any good citizen used to Tokyo's relatively frequent Orphan attacks, was soon running for safety as well.

Almost as soon as she was gone, two people walked out of the van's side door while a third came out the driver's seat.

"What the---" "The _hell_ are they wearing!" Both Yuuki and Natsuki erupted at the same time, respectively. Kumaji, Ichidouji and the Chief seemed to agree with the sentiment.

The first, from the driver's car and the one to pull open the front door, was wearing a white lab coat, latex gloves, a medical mask and protective glasses, with a clashing black and orange 'Yomiuri Giants' cap hiding most, but not all, of his short hair. He was the most "normal" of the three.

The second was wearing a stocking on his head with a hole cut for the mouth and nothing to contain the extra length that flopped behind him like a bonnet. He was wearing a camo suit with a "safety vest" that was painfully fake - even with the camera's poor resolution, even Natsuki rapidly saw it was nothing more than a thin black vest with the sleeves messily cut off at the shoulders. The weird part, however, was the face he had hand-painted on the stocking; it was white, red and yellow, had horns in weird places and red lines trailing below its globulous eyes that were probably meant to be blood. It was probably meant to look intimidating, but the drawing was so amateurish and crude that it only managed to look somewhat less disturbing than a two months old puppy stumbling adventurously on a bunch of fluffy blankets.

But the last one was by far the weirdest.

Whereas the other two had their heads mostly or completely hidden from view, the third's face was hidden by nothing but a monocle and a ridiculous white top-hat (which appeared to be somewhat _pointy_ on the right side, as if the material inside had been taped into a badly thought cylinder) that did very, very little to conceal his identity, despite what he seemed to believe. His pants were white and, like the first, he also wore a lab coat, but he had modified his so he could wear it like an arm-concealing white cloak; it was probably meant to look like a cape, but the arm holes had been badly sown enough to make him look like his arms were simply missing.

And, sadly enough, his body language told Yuuki he was the leader of the group. Yuuki rolled his eyes.

As the three would-be thieves started to break the glass displays - how exactly had they missed the alarm bell? - Natsuki sighed loudly.

"It's Doctor Evil, a Korn reject and Kaito Kid without the tux," she said, eliciting snorts from the others.

They watched as the thieves picked jewels by the handful and stuffed them in big garbage bags for a minute, then Yuuki let out his own sigh.

"They're amateurs," he declared. Both Kumaji and Natsuki nodded in agreement, the latter to his surprise.

"I hope he doesn't think that monocle will stop us from finding out who he is," the little girl pointed at 'Kaito kid'.

"Only one of them's wearing gloves, they're leaving fingerprints everywhere," Yuuki noted. "Plus, they're reaching in broken glass without protection--see, the Korn Reject just cut himself there. That's a blood sample."

"They're being rough with the jewelry, they'll break some of them for sure," Natsuki added. That was true, but…

"Not just that, their bags are way too big; there's never enough jewelry in a shop to fill a whole garbage bag, never mind three. Plus, jewelry on its own is useless; you need to sell it to get anything from it, and I'm betting they _didn't_ think about that." She blinked and thought for a second before nodding in a conceding way.

"Then there's their van, it's an old piece of junk, and there can't be many like it wandering around, never mind with curtains and tinted windows, and they were stupid enough to park in front of the window. If we put up a search warrant, we'll find it for sure," Natsuki said. A dark smile appeared in Yuuki's face.

"I don't think we'll have to do that. If my memory is right, there isn't a lot of room for them to escape the scene with, and really only one way they can turn around. If my guess is right, we'll see their license plate." Natsuki blinked again.

"They can't be _that_ stupid, right? All they'd have to do is drive backward…"

Yuuki raised an eyebrow and silently pointed at the top-hat wearer. Natsuki sighed.

"Good point."

And, sure enough, after the thieves had finished pillaging the store (only a short time after a police car driven by a certain overweight agent sped past in reverse, fleeing the scene) from the incoming Orphan), they returned to the van and, during the inevitable U-turn,

"...argh--did we get it?" Yuuki asked.

"I think so... or at least part of it," Eriko replied. "I hadn't noticed it the first time I saw this, though."

...only the right half the plate became visible, and only for an instant. But it would be enough... hopefully.

"Ok, so we have the license plate, that guy's face, fingerprints and a blood sample from the wannabe Jack Skellington to go with," Natsuki resumed, turning to look her querying green eyes at Kumaji. "This will be easy, right?"

Instead of confirming, Kumaji raised a bushy eyebrow and intoned, "maybe you should ask your partner that?"

The little bluette frowned a bit and turned the now much colder eyes toward the Kansaijin, who noticed he was now the center of attention. He nervously cleared his throat and replied, "It _should_ be easy - I mean, we saw his face and the plate, but the best thing is those fingerprints. There must be dozens of them all over the glass that we can use to--"

He cut himself off as, on the still continuing video feed, a huge piece of the Orphan's pincers broke through the window, breaking and upturning the stalls and spilling torrents of broken glass as it went, before bursting into green flames - the scene was now a complete mess of shattered wood and glass.

Four pairs of eyes turned toward a green-eyed fifth.

"Sorry," Natsuki muttered sheepishly. Yuuki sighed.

"Ok. So getting the fingerprints will be a _little_ harder than expected. We still have his face and the plate, and the DNA will be easier to find, not that we can go very far with _that_."

"Why not?" Natsuki asked. "I mean, it's like fingerprints, right? Everyone's are unique."

"It's easy to find someone based on his fingerprints because everyone's are registered at birth. DNA samples need to be compared to another, so you can't use them unless you've got some idea of who it is and another sample to compare it to; they're not an investigative tool, they're incriminating evidence."

"Oh," Natsuki noised.

"So you'd start with...?" Kumaji asked. Yuuki had the distinct impression the older police officer was testing him.

"I'd start with searching Top-hat's home, since we know his face," he replied after a short thoughtful pause, weighing his answer like an exam's, just in case. "But first I'd need to know his name and address—"

"Oh, I did that—" Eriko suddenly piped up in the middle of shutting down the projector, freezing when she saw everyone looking at her. "I-- I mean—I--- I started the search… It… it should be finished… maybe… I mean, I saw the video and his face and I thought… uh…"

"Cute _and _efficient. I like," he said flirtingly with a smile, then chuckled inwardly as the shy brunette's cheeks turned a fiery red.

"Allright, enough out of you, Casanova," the chief declared, speaking for the first time. The grimness in her voice rapidly killed the researcher's blush rapidly and brought the whole room to a cool seriousness that had been conspicuously missing from the moment the thieves had appeared on the screen.

"Normally," she started, "I'd let a more experienced officer handle a group of thieves like this, even if _this_ group seems to have all the brains and common sense of a doped-up moth between the three of them. The problem, however, is their distraction. If they are indeed behind the robbery of the _Umi no ki_ as well as the _Murasaki_, which follows the same MO, then we have to assume they have the ability to manipulate Orphans somehow."

"There was a jewelry shop in front of the _Umi no ki_," Natsuki piped up. Yuuki gave her a surprised glance; he hadn't noticed _that_. "Maybe it was their first target, only the Orphan was too pathetic to be a big enough distraction…"

"You're assuming a lot, princess," Kumaji pointed out warningly. "Still, it's possible; using an Orphan to steal so little yen seems kinda silly… Then again, so do their costumes."

"In any case," the Chief said loudly, "because they have the ability to use Orphans in some way, I have little choice but to assign Tanuki and Princess to the case, since she's specially equipped to handle them. Ichidouji, you and your colleagues will treat any of their requests as priority; as well, I want the whole team to research on ways to control, manipulate or in some other way affect Orphans to make them do your bidding, whenever you're not handling this or another high priority case. I want to know what we're dealing with here."

"Yes ma'am," Ichidouji saluted.

"You know anything about that?" Kumaji suddenly asked. Yuuki had to look at him to see he was asking Natsuki, who had been frowning thoughtfully.

"No… I mean, I've _seen_ a Child that could do something like that to an Orphan—control it or trick its senses or something, I didn't ask its HiME how it was doing it – but from what I remember, it was nothing strong enough to stop an aggressive Orphan like _that_ one from going nuts, especially with three people so close to it. It _should_ have gone crazy and killed them in the first place. Besides, that Child was pretty damn big, and I'd have noticed a giant chess piece hovering around."

"We didn't see the van," Yuuki pointed out. Natsuki rolled her eyes.

"I was busy knocking some sense into the old gheez---I mean, Rokubungi," she amended as the Chief raised an eyebrow, "and you were busy trying to get yourself squashed by a giant lobster so yours truly could save you," she finished derisorily. He gave her a glare, she replied with a toothy grin.

"If you're quite finished acting like a pair of kids?" The Chief cut in like a Katana blade; the partners understandably shut up and turned to look at her (though Yuuki resisted the urge to point out the brat _was_ a kid). "As I said, you're both assigned to this case, and you've got the highest priority. Their last stunt did over twenty million yen of damage, not to mention it'll take weeks before the street is back in order, never mind the wrecked buildings. I can't allow a bunch of low-lives like them to do that kind of damage to _my_ ward. I want them caught and rotting in their own wastes where they belong, and I want them there _yesterday_."

"That's illegal in most countries," Kumaji pointed out. The chief turned his way.

"What part is?"

"The 'rotting in their own wastes' part."

"Hm… Is it illegal here?"

"Last time I checked, it was."

"What's the closest country where it's legal, then?"

"I'd say North Korea, probably. And before you ask, they don't let anyone in."

"We could use a catapult."

"We don't have a catapult."

"Curses. I guess I can't have everything." A small smile appeared on both Kumaji and the chief's faces, showing they hadn't exactly been serious. "Jokes aside, Kumaji, give Tanuki a Flash-stick, I'll fix the red tape for it."

The older officer nodded. Yuuki made a confused sound. A Flash-stick?

"Ichidouji, get working."

"Hai," the brunette replied with a salute, and she left immediately.

"Any questions?" The chief asked.

"Just one," Yuuki put in. "You _do_ remember my name isn't Tanuki, right?"

A frosty blue-eyed glare was his answer.

"Right, never mind, no questions then." He muttered meekly.

"Thought so. Dismissed, everyone; get back to work."

-

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**My**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**-**

**Disclaimer: **While the My and the HiME don't belong to me, ∞ does. Since ∞ means infinity, then infinity belongs to me, except what exclusively belongs to someone else. Since infinity means everything, it means that while I own the people working at Sunrise and the city it's built in, I don't own Sunrise itself or My HiME. Thus, in a roundabout way, I don't own My HiME, but I do.

**P.S:** I did some minor edits to the last scene of chapter 3; some Shizuru-Natsuki interaction, because I'd been in a hurry last time.

**Special Thanks to my Betas, Sebastian Palm and ifhaseth! **

**-**

**Chapter 4: Red Herring**

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**-**

The shooting range was a fairly large room that made up about a third of the headquarters' third floor. Ten meters wide for forty long, of which only three were on the other side of the security blockade, it was a fairly straightforward range; its far right wall was heavily padded to absorb bullets, whether they hit or missed the human-silhouette paper targets that were hanging at regular intervals from holes in the ceiling whenever someone was using the room. The left side held various regulation or commonly used guns (common being a word to be taken relatively, considering how strict Japan was about guns), and on the wall in front of the thick metal door built to be nigh impossible to force open, there was a large locker sealed with an impressive padlock that would probably have given a metal saw or a torch some trouble to cut through.

And, after Kumaji and Yuuki entered the deserted room with an echoing high-pitched metallic squeak of the heavy door's hinges, it was toward that locker that the former headed to.

"Why didn't the brat come with us?" Yuuki asked.

"Princess isn't allowed in this room without a good reason," Kumaji explained as he fiddled with the padlock's relatively tiny key, muttering epithets under his breath (and Yuuki's pet theory about the origins of Natsuki's dirty language was proven to be true). "Back when she could, she kept coming in here to blast a few holes through the targets, but her elements damaged the mat in the back, so Akane ordered her not to."

"They're that powerful?" Yuuki blinked. He remembered oh-too-well the freezing feeling her shot had left on his arm, but it didn't seem enough to do any kind of serious damage to a hardened bullet-stopping mat.

"It's not a matter of being powerful, it's a matter of causing a kind of damage they weren't made to handle," Kumaji replied.

Oh. Right. That made sense. "Why didn't she use regular guns, then?"

A small smile appeared on Kumaji's face, and while Yuuki couldn't see it, he certainly heard it in the reply, "She hates them; says they're too loud, too smelly, shoot too slow, are too heavy… the list goes on, but I think the real reason why she never wants to use a real gun is that the first and only time she tried, she ended up flat on her back from the recoil."

Yuuki snickered at the mental picture this offered. Maybe someone had taken a picture he could see… And—wait. "Akane?" he repeated.

"Akitori Akane---ah, finally" Kumaji replied just as he gave a sharp _tug_ and the padlock finally gave up. "That's the Chief's full name, but I'm the only one she'll let call her that way, since I met her as a sergeant when she was still a cadet; if you try it, she'll put fishing hooks through your balls, tie them to the back of her car and drive all the way to Sapporo."

Yuuki winced. "Gotcha."

Kumaji noised a bear-like chuckle in reply as he opened the locker's doors – they gave a slight screech, as if they hadn't been opened in quite a few years – and extracted _something_ from inside, something heavy enough to make the broad officer grunt with effort at lifting it. Then he turned around, and Yuuki saw what it was.

"Whoa." was his reaction.

It was white and sleek, shaped slightly like a hourglass, about half a meter long, nearly two decimeters high at the cannon, a long nylon strap connecting the front and the back and had blue lamp-like pieces sticking out along the back, but it was otherwise recognizable as a rifle. That is, a rifle that had been pulled right out of a high budget science fiction movie. And from the way Kumaji handled it, it seemed to be quite heavy.

"This, Tanuki, is a Medium-level Photon Phase Disruption Rifle, or Photon phasing Rifle or Phase Disruption Rifle or whatever, I forgot its name, and it's not important anyway; everyone here calls it the Flash-stick," Kumaji began. "As I'm sure you already know, regular weapons can't do much against Orphans; they leave small holes that are healed in a matter of seconds, and nothing but a high power missile can cause any kind of decent damage to it. This gun, however, was built with them in mind."

Yuuki remembered the damage yesterday's Orphan had taken and dealt, and the trouble it had given the brat, who was naturally equipped to fight them. How powerful would a weapon meant to hurt Orphans be? For an instant, an image of the gun firing a steady beam of energy, blasting buildings, cars and other urban features left and right floated through his mind before he shook his head to clear it.

Heh. Yeah right. This wasn't Gundam, after all.

Then his train of thought suffered a fatal derailment as Kumaji **pointed the rifle straight at him and---**

_Hnnnnnzzzzz_**----_KERZAP!_----**

"AHH!—aa--a…---ah?" was Yuuki's reaction. Surprised at not being reduced to a shapeless splatter on the wall, he looked down at himself, expecting a huge cauterized hole or a blasted chest or something so _fatally major_ he wouldn't feel more than the mild warmth he was feeling from his uniform's front.

…nothing. Not even a scratch, not even a scorch mark.

"Now, as I said," Kumaji resumed, sounding more smugly amused than probably or should be legal, "this gun was built with Orphans in mind. That means it's completely useless against anything else."

"A warning would have been nice," Yuuki grumbled. The older officer chuckled gruffly and continued his speech,

"I'll skip the big explanation since I barely caught it myself, but Orphans are made of solid light at a certain phase, and this gun fires a beam of light that dephases them... whatever that means. I'm a police officer, not a physicist. What I _do _know is that this gun causes wounds on Orphans that take a lot longer to heal than regular firearms, and that's all that matters."

"Why isn't everyone using them, then?" He asked as Kumaji handed him the rifle - urgh! It _was_ heavy! At least fifteen kilos! - the brat could have used the help against yesterday's Orphan.

"Except for their weight?" Kumaji replied wryly, seeing the trouble Yuuki was having at finding a comfortable way to hold it, "They're pretty damn expensive, for one; you're holding about five million yen in your hands at the moment."

Yuuki froze and boggled. _Five_ _Million_...?

"And second, they're not very efficient - sure, it'll hurt an average Orphan, but you'd be lucky to kill anything or do any kind of damage that'll last longer than a minute with this gun; it's about as strong as a derringer with black powder pellets. If you two face an Orphan, I suggest you leave it to Princess, who can do better with what nature's given her than anything science can make so far."

"If it's so useless, why bother giving it to me?"

"Because," Kumaji said as he shut the doors with a noisy clang and a metallic clink from the padlock, "While this is a bit much to carry around all the time, since Tokyo as a whole gets about one or two attacks a week and there's one chance in 23 that it ends up in our ward, you'll be going against thieves that use them as diversions and who _probably_ have the ability to summon them somehow, so it's pretty much certain you'll need it.

"Plus, Princess is like quite a few HiMEs; she has this nasty tendency to think she's invincible and sometimes takes risks she _really_ shouldn't, and while you can't kill an Orphan with this gun, you can at least be a distraction if she gets in a jam. And trust me, she probably will. Now go ahead and try it out; I need to teach you to hold it right..."

-

-------------

-

Natsuki watched as her old and new partner left to the shooting range. She'd have loved to follow them (if only to see how bad Tanuki's aim was compared to her pinpoint one (at least, with her Elements, one of the perks of being a HiME) and rub it in his face), but the chief had forbidden her to go after she had deep-frosted and burned the mat to the point it had to be removed with a good part of the wall.

Hmph. Like it was her fault they hadn't bothered to make it freeze and burn proof...

She knew Kuma-jiji and stupid Tanuki would be busy for a while, and she wasn't about to spend it waiting there standing in the hallway. With a grin appearing on her face, she realized she was alone, and since there was probably no one in the break room (which was usually empty at this time, she knew), there would be no one to stop her from taking a coffee.

Honestly, she sighed as she climbed down the stairs. It wasn't like she was nine anymore... She was old enough to drink coffee-- besides, no one said anything to Shizuru when she drank her tea, and that had caffeine in it too!

The break room was a claustrophobically small room on the second floor, near the administration - or, as she referred to it, "the boringest place in the station" - and the Chief's office. It was equipped with a counter long enough to hold a perpetually busy sink, a constantly full dishwasher and a bunch of cupboards that were forever empty, which incidentally caused it to fill up a third of the room's area. The rest of it was either occupied with one of the twelve chairs or the three tables that made the rest of its furniture.

Despite it being called the break room, most of the agents preferred to take their breaks in the lobby on the first floor, which had the same useful amenities (meaning, the coffee machine, as almost everyone already had their own cups - they were quite popular presents at the station) with the advantage of being much less claustrophobic. This, of course, meant that it was almost always empty.

Emphasis on "almost", because, to her surprise, it wasn't empty when she entered; Lieutenant Ishigami, pretty much the only agent she knew for whom she didn't have a (semi-disparaging) nickname for, was sitting at one of the tables when she entered. He looked up, apparently as surprised as her at finding someone else in the break room, but softened when he saw it was her.

Natsuki liked Ishigami. The thin-eyed officer with square rimmed glasses was the very first agent she had opened up to when she had started 'volunteering', even before Kumaji. Back then, she had been used as a general helper and handled like a parasite by the bureaucrats (in hindsight, she could see they simply hadn't trusted a nine years old girl's sense of organization to deal with sensitive paperwork), he had been the only one who had been willing to talk with her and relieve her of her boredom. In fact, it was thanks to him if she had ended up as Kumaji's partner in the first place - or, at least, she seriously suspected it, and as Kumaji had taught her, she followed her gut feeling and what evidence she had.

There was no question in her mind, however, as to why the chief hadn't put her with him; first, he already had a partner, although she'd been out for the last two weeks on maternity leave. Second, he liked her _too much_; the chief needed someone whom she could trust wouldn't hesitate to hit the button on the remote if she went nuts or something (not that she would, Natsuki mentally protested, but the chief was well-known to be protective of her precious career). And third, she added as she watched the cup she had freshly extracted from the dishwasher being filled by the instant coffee machine, he was willing to overlook just about anything she did, except her potty mouth (which he proclaimed to be Kumaji's fault, an accusation to which the newly promoted captain would only comment in the presence of his lawyer).

Coffee in hand, she sat on the chain in front of him (noting with a bit of joy that her ankles _almost_ touched the ground), then picked the sugar jar and added five generous spoonfuls; the _only_ way to drink coffee, she knew, as the damn thing was way too bitter, and it made mayonnaise taste bad - she knew from experience. How the chief could drink it black, she had no idea.

She then glanced at what he'd been doing; his notebook was open in front of him, just below a pair of pictures of girls who appeared to be near her age. She raised an eyebrow.

"Who's that? Your daughters?" she asked teasingly.

"It's a case," he replied distractedly, while underlining something in his notebook. She sobered up immediately; Ishigami was a field officer (the polite word for "grunt") of the major crime department (unlike she and Tanuki, who were a detective team for minor crimes only (current case and occasional Orphan-busting excluded), which was probably a fourth reason for her current partnership), so if they were a case, it wasn't good news for them.

"Can I look?" He smiled and nodded, she quickly took the pictures in her hands and inspected them thoroughly, to find that neither were very special; the first had a pair of ponytails that her hair seemed to be fighting against with everything it had, making her look somewhat like she'd had a bad meeting with an electric plug, while the second had glass bottle glasses and a large amount of freckles, which did nothing to make her snout-like nose any less evident.

"The first one, with the ponytails, is Nijino Sora, twelve years old; she vanished last Friday on her way back from Shinagawa middle school, as far as the information we have says. The other one is 13 years old Ayasaka Saya – yes, made me pause when I heard it the first time too – she left her friend's house in Aoyama late on Saturday; she never got home. Considering the timing and the general similarities between the victims and MO – we're thinking both of them were taken while using alleys, we were told they both tended to use shortcuts like them – we're thinking the same person is doing this. And we _know_ they're not just runaway cases, because Nijino-san is the highly responsible top-of-the-class type and didn't appear to have any kind of problems, and Ayasaka-san's family are just about the nicest people I've ever seen – I just came back from seeing them."

Natsuki winced. "Ouch." A wry smile appeared on Ishigami's face.

"Yeah. That'd be one of the joys of being a grunt; handling worried parents."

She smiled and went back to inspecting the pictures, mulling over what he had told her.

"Shinagawa… Aoyama… they're pretty far apart," Natsuki noted. Ishigami nodded.

"It is; we're thinking whoever's behind this is using a car during his crime; what we can't figure out is _why_ they're doing this; there was no ransom notes, and while Ayasaka-san's family _is_ rich, Nijino's isn't. And kidnappers in for money wouldn't take two girls like that unless they were related somehow - and they aren't."

"Maybe it's a pervert?" Natsuki suggested with some distaste.

Ishigami gave her a small smile. "That's a possibility we're considering; seems like the most likely possibility; right now, though, unless a witness pops out of the woodwork or he makes a mistake, we're stuck for now. The good thing is that he has no reason to stop -- if that's a good thing."

Natsuki made a disgusted sound. "So who's the detective handling this?"

"Kumaji – he insisted," Ishigami added at seeing Natsuki's surprised face. "I know it's not supposed to be his job anymore, but the chief agreed to it since it looks like it'll be a pretty hard case."

"You think the chief would let me help him then?" she piped up. "I mean, if it's a pervert, I could act as bait--"

"Get that idea out of your mind, princess," Ishigami interrupted chidingly. "First, you have your own case with Tanaka-san. Second, the chief would kill me for suggesting it, then you for thinking it; even Kumaji wouldn't get out of that one without at _least_ a lashing – and I don't mean with words. Third, your friend Fujino would go on a rampage inside the station if something happened to you; you're impossible to fight if you're awake, but imagine he manages to knock you out before you can summon Durhan? _Especially _if it's a pervert?"

Natsuki winced. "Point taken."

"And lastly, we want him caught, not turned into an omelet by Durhan."

"I have more control over him than that!"

"My point exactly," he replied with a small smile as she spluttered additional denials. The break room's door took this time to open, allowing Yuuki and Kumaji inside. The older officer wordlessly picked the cup of coffee from Natsuki's hands - who only now noticed she had forgot to drink it, rats - and took a sip. He winced at the taste.

"You always put too much sugar in it, Princess."

"It's bitter and yucky otherwise, old bear," Natsuki replied grumblingly.

"It's meant to be bitter so little kids don't try to drink it."

"I'm _not_ little!" she huffed and crossed her arms childishly while Kumaji went to empty the cup in the sink, giving her a pat on the head along the way.

"So, when are we going?" Ishigami asked the captain, who put the empty cup on the counter before replying,

"As soon as Ichidouji pages us."

Natsuki blinked in confusion. Wasn't Ichidouji supposed to handle her case? Why was--

"You're coming with us?" Yuuki's question at the lieutenant cut into her confusion. The officer nodded, while Kumaji was the one to reply.

"My case isn't going anywhere for now, I'm afraid," he said, "and since there's a chance that you'll find all three thieves at the same place, Akane decided to send me and Ishigami along with you two, so you don't end up outnumbered. I only learned this morning. And yes, Princess, I know you technically count for two, but Akane isn't going to risk her all-important career on making it appear she was less than careful if something goes wrong."

"What _could_ go wrong exactly?" Natsuki asked.

"Word from the wise: Never, _ever_ ask that question, Princess," Kumaji replied.

"Oh? Who's the wise?"

Kumaji opened his mouth to snipe back at her, but at that moment, the PA system interrupted them. A short crisping noise came through the wall-mounted speaker, a second before a female voice came through:

_"Captain Kumaji, Lieutenant Ishigami, Detective Tanaka and Volunteer Kuga are requested by Researcher Ichidouji in the archives. Repeat, Captain..." _

"That would be our cue," Ishigami said, stuffing his notebook and the pictures in his shirt pocket while getting up.

-

-------------

-

The Archives were a large space that spanned some of the first and a lot of the second floor. Directly connected to the officers' area and the reception on the first floor, and the administration on the second floor, it bustled with activity as uniform-clad officers and researchers and casually clad bureaucrats wandered like ants between the many rows of preciously ordered paperwork sealed in large chromed filing cabinets.

Ichidouji's desk was in the frontmost section of the first floor, near the reception and a large bulletproof window looking on to the parking lot. The section appeared to be the main area for her co-workers as well, as there were a dozen other desks, arranged similarly with a single computer and wide working areas delimited by inch-tall 'walls', which were really the only separation between them; the researchers were apparently _encouraged_ to peek at what their neighbors were doing, which made sense after one thought about it a little. However, the general lack of organization and haphazard mess that could be found on most of those desks made it appear like this was the workspace of a bunch of frat programmers on a test crunch.

Her spot was no exception; it was a literal pigsty of multicolored papers, forgotten documents and discarded handwritten notes surrounding a half-drunk cup of coffee ("Shh! I'm looking for the kitty!" told the super deformed dog drawn on it to the aforementioned 'kitty' poking its back). Around her computer screen, a dozen yellow sticky notes of varying importance and age hinted to their owner being a forgetful or easily distracted person.

When she spoke, however, there was nothing distracted about her.

"Ueda Tetsuo, 27 years old, unemployed for the last year but somehow lives in a relatively expensive apartment in Akasaka, so he probably does work under the table. He was arrested two years ago in a library in Chuo, for trying to seal a beginner's book on magic tricks, pleaded guilty and spent a month in prison. His behavior was described as 'delusional, but harmless', which pretty much means he's a crackpot that doesn't want to kill people. He's left-handed and his blood type is AB."

Yuuki gave a long impressed whistle while Ishigami slowly and _loudly_ applauded. Or at least, she seemed to believe it was loud; her job accomplished, her professionalism vanished and the brunette's cheeks reddened under the praise, and though she did her best to hide it by looking at her computer, her ears could not be so inconspicuously hidden.

"Nice job, Ichidouji. You have the exact address, I believe?" Kumaji asked. She nodded and handed one of the many papers on her desk, with the address having already been written on it.

"It…it was easy enough…" she stammered. Natsuki smirked.

"I'll bet it was, since we had his face… looks like our bozo dropped the 'harmless' part, though."

"Well I got his 'harmless' right here," Yuuki said with a grin, tugging at the handcuffs hanging from his belt. "How about we go and give it to him?"

The little girl shot him a blank look.

"…that was awful, Tanuki." she noted matter-of-factly. He scowled.

"Shut up, brat."

"What about the license plate?" Kumaji asked. Ichidouji shook her head and answered, once again with perfect professionalism,

"Nothing for now; we only got half the digits. I ran a search and got about seven hundred hits; about a hundred of them are Hiaces, forty of them are black – but we can't rely on that to narrow it down, since they can be repainted easily enough – and I'm still cross-referencing to see which ones are likely to be in Tokyo right now." She shrugged. "Hopefully, if you don't catch him, you'll at least find something to narrow the list down, otherwise I'm getting nothing from that angle."

-

-------------

-

The people who lived in the seven stories tall apartment building at the inner limits of Akasaka were quite surprised that morning to see three police cars stop silently in front of their door. They were just as surprised when three officers came out, accompanied by a little girl. Questions arose among the growing number of curious onlookers watching from their apartment windows or balconies, but no one remembered ever seeing that little girl before. Who could she be and what could she be doing here, with police officers?

At ground level, the officers opened the door leading inside the building under the eye of the nosy man who was its owner – nosy not in the curious sense, but in the 'gifted with a voluminous nose' one – who had been forewarned of their arrival. He led them downstairs, away from the somewhat expensive-looking habitations above and toward the less glamorous ones below, finally stopping at a door marked 013.

"They haven't been here in a few days, though," he said before opening the door.

"They just _had_ to have _that_ bit of common sense, I guess…" Yuuki sighed, then paused. "Wait, they? Three people, by any chance?"

With a puzzled raised eyebrow, the owner shook his head. "Two; Tetsuo-san and his little brother, Sunao-san."

"We'll have to get Ichidouji to look at him next," Kumaji noted darkly.

-

The apartment was home to two grown men, and family to boot. This, by what could only be some of the more obscure laws of nature, meant that it was—

"Urgh!" noised Natsuki.

…a total and utter mess. The first room they saw was the living room, of which virtually every surface was littered by random junk and instant food packaging – many of which would later be shown to have seen the expiration date marked on them weeks ago, which said a lot about their age and how long the place had spent without a good cleaning. A strong, nauseating smell of trash hovered about the room, prompting the less stoic ones among the visitors (namely, Natsuki and the owner) to pinch their noses forcefully.

"I'll take this room," Kumaji said, and headed straight for the corner, where the phone was barely visible, partially hidden by an empty instant spaghetti meal.

The kitchen was actually worse – the sink was full of dirty dishes and the line-shaped sauce stains on a nearby dish towel on the dirty counter told of inhabitants who hastily washed their utensils at the very last second. In the back of the room, a large number of garbage bags were piled up, apparently laid aside to be taken out "another day" repeatedly for a few weeks; the building's owner, whom Yuuki gave a short glance at after seeing them, was giving those bags a very disapproving look that promised a throughout chewing out about it when his irresponsible tenants returned.

Understandably, no one volunteered to look around there.

The bathroom was _thankfully_ clean (Yuuki had almost been afraid of what they'd find when he opened the door), though the towels hanging near the shower – itself in dire need of a scrub – were rugged and grayed with age. The bedroom was more interesting, though; arrayed haphazardly around the two unmade futons that stunk of sweat were a large number of VCR tapes. Ishigami picked one of them up.

"Batman returns," he read the title out loud, before picking up a handful of them, "and Spiderman one and two, and the Fantastic Four, all in original English with subtitles…" he looked at Yuuki with a raised eyebrow, "an Ameri-otaku?"

Yuuki nodded while Natsuki stepped around him to have a look around too. "Probably; if that was their inspiration, it sure would explain their costumes." Ishigami snorted in response.

"More of them here," Natsuki said, looking at a small pile she had found. "Superu... Supru... um... Supaamann ibu, Ikusu-man, Bu—k...uh... bu..."

"Anyways," Yuuki said, ignoring her bumbling attempts at reading English letters (honestly, had she missed three years of school or something? And since when was "IV" read Ibu?), "Ishigami, go look around in the kitchen. Kuga and I will look---"

"Ishigami, what's a Buck Cake?" Natsuki asked, as if Yuuki hadn't been talking. The thin-eyed man gave her a startled look.

"Buck--where--" she showed him the tape she was holding, on which a shapely and scantly clad woman grinned pearly-white teeth under the English title of 'Queens of Bukkake'.

"You think Fumi-obaachan would make one if we ask?" she asked honestly.

"On second thought, Ishigami, you stay here, Kuga, er---go to Kumaji or something," Yuuki quickly put in, taking the tape and pushing the young teen outside, ignoring her protests.

"H-Hey--Why--"

After shutting the door behind her, he sighed.

"It really figures _she'd_ stumble on their porn on the first try--- and not a word out of you, lieutenant!"

"Sir, yes sir!" the other man saluted stiffly with a large amused grin. Yuuki sighed again.

-

-------------

-

Natsuki grumbled under her breath. That stupid Tanuki, trying to push her out of the investigation like she was nothing but a little kid running around and playing police… Hah. She'd _told_ him she was used to this stuff - it wasn't her fault if her English wasn't advanced enough to know things like "Buck Cake"... Maybe she'd aught to look it up on the internet... how was it spelled again? B-u-k-k...something...

Bah, whatever. In the meantime, she knew just the right way to pay him back for pushing her away - by finding a brilliant piece of evidence before he does and rub it in his face! That'll teach him not to underestimate her!

...not that she cared what he thought about her, come to think about it, but it was the principle of the thing.

She easily found Kumaji in the living room, near the phone, by following the sound of his voice asking questions to the building's owner.

"...ndard rate is about three hundred thousand yen a month for these apartments; those on the higher levels are almost twice that much," he was replying when they came into her view.

"Isn't that a bit expensive?" Kumaji asked while kneeling in front of the phone and noting something down in his notebook - she knew from experience that he was noting down the phone numbers and times of the last people who had called them recently.

"This is a three room apartment, sir. And the location is very good - there's a bus stop nearby that leads to two different train lines, both of which are within ten minutes of walk if you don't want to wait. My apartments are _very_ worth their price," the owner replied defensively, sounding piqued.

"Hm," Kumaji noised noncommittally (another trick he had explained to her: people unsure of what you think are more likely to be defensive, and defensive people talk more… sometimes), "and you say they never paid late?"

"Yes, that's right," the owner replied with a smile. "They were excelle—"

"And yet only one of them worked," Kumaji interrupted.

The smile froze. "Ah... yes."

"And you didn't think it was suspicious?"

An offended frown replaced it. "Sir, I am not someone curious as to pry on the private lives of my tenants. Being suspicious of everyone and everything is _your_ job, not mine."

"Hm-hn. In other words, you'd led a bloodthirsty Yakuza goon live down here, and as long as he didn't hurt anyone nearby and paid his rent, you wouldn't care."

"Ah--- that is to say… uh…"

Kumaji made a gruff snort, the kind meant to lead the owner to believe he was digging his own grave. Having seen him interrogate someone like this before, Natsuki allowed a small smile to come on her face; he had explained to her _why_ he was always so aggressive while interrogating: it kept whoever was being questioned on the defensive, and thus made them more likely to accidentally spill things to cover their own skins… though he _had_ warned her that it didn't always work, and sometimes entirely had the opposite effect.

The captain noted a final number down (she assumed), then looked up and saw her standing in the short "hallway" connecting to the kitchen and the bedroom. He let out a sigh.

"Why aren't you with your partner, Princess?"

"I was finding things way too fast and he kicked me out to save face," she joked. As she had expected him to find it amusing, the irked frown that fell on his face took her by surprise.

"The truth, Natsuki," he said in a deep voice that, if the fact that he had used her real name wasn't enough, told her he wasn't amused.

"He sent me to you, I'm not sure why – and I'm not lying, either," she added quickly when his frown turned suspicious, something so tiny on his broad face that only someone very used to reading him like she was could notice. Only now did she notice she _was_ on the defensive, and had she known anything, he would have been aware of it.

Damn he was good. Oh, _why_ did he have to go and get himself promoted!

"Hm. I expect his reason was good enough. I've got this room covered, so you can go look in the kitchen. And yes, you can use Durhan."

She nodded with a grin at his answer to a question she had asked so often it was almost rehearsed, before turning toward the kitchen. As she entered it, she heard the owner's voice ask:

"Say, about that girl, why is she here anyway?"

To which Kumaji replied: "I thought you said you weren't curious?"

"Ah…"

Natsuki snickered. Her amusement vanished as she cast her second look at the Kitchen, and realized once more what a pigsty it was.

Sigh. Oh well, off to work; after materializing her elements, she called,

"Durhan!"

…and he started to appear. In the relative silence of the apartment, the icy explosion that accompanied her Child's summoning seemed incredibly loud. The mechanical howl he released after he materialized was no less, to the point that—

"What was _that_!"

…it alarmed the owner, who erupted behind her and stopped suddenly when he saw Durhan.

_'Danger?'_ came from Durhan as he tensed up. She sent a negative reply and he visibly calmed, though she could feel he was still ready to jump in and protect her if need be.

"Ah… you're… a HiME?" the owner stuttered, suddenly nervous (understandable, as most people were as scared of Childs as of Orphans, like they were as likely to jump at anyone's throat as the other; it didn't stop it from irking Natsuki, though).

While she nodded with stiff lips, Kumaji came up behind him and said: "I trust that's not a problem," in a tone that said it had _better_ not be.

"Ah…. Uh… no… um, but… but we have a no pet policy…"

Kumaji raised an eyebrow. "I'd like to meet the person who's allergic to _this_ dog."

"Ah… right… I'll… I'll make an exception… ah… if you're looking for me, I'll be… um… outside…"

"Right. We'll ask you if we have more questions for you."

"Hn…" And with that, the owner left (read: fled) the apartment. Kumaji gave her a nod, then another one at the open bedroom door from which Tanuki was looking in curiously, before leaving back to the phone. The Kansaijin officer gave a shrug, as if telling himself that if Kumaji was alright with it, he had no reason to tell her to dematerialize Durhan, before returning to the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

_'Safe?' _Durhan asked; he was visibly wondering why he had been summoned.

_'Search,'_ she ordered. It wasn't the first time she used Durhan as a sniffing dog, so he easily figured out what she wanted. Putting his nose to the floor, he took a whiff—

_'Stinks!'_

Unfortunately for Natsuki, the message was less a word or a meaning and more of a sensation; she winced and reflexively blocked her own nose, with no effect at all. It _did_ stink! When was the last time that floor had been washed, the feudal era!

"Soey," she apologized nasally. Understanding he was making her uncomfortable, Durhan cut their connection partly and sent an apology that she waved off. She let out a relieved sigh and began her own search, looking at places she had been lucky at before, like under the table (nope, no hidden drugs there this time) behind the garbage can (she did _not_ want to know how long that empty yogurt cup had spent lying there on the floor) and inside the counters (Urgh! Spider web! Gross!), to no avail.

She was in the process of climbing on the counter to gain access to the upper cupboards when Durhan tugged at her attention through the link; the mechanical wolf was inspecting one of the garbage bags (she was privately surprised he had even approached them; he must have been unwilling to let _her_ do the dirty job, hopelessly loyal as he was), one near the top that, Natsuki noted, was oddly shaped, as if something big and square was in it, like a box.

Curious, she asked Durhan to pull it out, which he did with a great _yank_ of his jaws. Unfortunately, this brought the few bags around it down on his head – she distinctively heard something glassy shatter inside one of them.

_'Not hurt,'_ he sent to reassure her; she smiled at his thoughtfulness, though she hadn't been worried; she'd seen him take hits _much_ harder than a simple glass bottle.

He brought the bag to her and dropped it in front of her feet; the box-like object inside was about the size of a shoebox, a bit taller maybe, and didn't appear to be alone in the bag. With a lack of hesitation borne from her young age, she reached for edges and pulled it open completely…

…her eyes then widened in surprise.

"Kuma-jiji!"

-

-------------

-

"A bunch of broken kitchen knives, a bent and melted butter knife, broken bits of metal, a few burnt playing cards, and, more interestingly, a small-scale high heat oven, and two pairs of ripped sleeves, one white and one black," Kumaji listed what the now empty and discarded bag had spilled on the table.

"Those sleeves come from their costumes, right?" Natsuki guessed. The captain gave her a nod.

"Probably. That'd mean we're going after the right guys, and that the Korn Reject is none other than Ueda Sunao. And the oven is weird, too; there are only so many places you can find a piece of equipment like this."

"The other bags had nothing but regular trash, though there were quite a few beer cans for two people," Ishigami reported, removing the gloves he had put on to inspect them.

"We didn't find anything in the bedroom, either, except for these," Tanuki put it, pointing at a handful of tapes he had brought with him. It took a few seconds for Natsuki to notice that their titles, all written in squiggly English letters she couldn't begin to read (they were weird, like one uninterrupted line), were the same. "Looks like our thieves were into bootlegging. That explains their income, I guess."

She smirked. "Heh, I found more than you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You found a bunch of trash that told us something that we could easily have guessed, and an oven that we're not even sure if it's is relevant. _I_ found how they were making cash, and it's something _else_ to put them behind the bars for," he pointed out. "I'd say what I found it a bit more important than what you did."

Natsuki crossed her arms and huffed. Stupid Tanuki…

"Now now, children," Kumaji said, acting like the voice of reason, "this is not a competition, so it doesn't matter who found more or less. That being said," he extracted his notebook from his uniform pocket and opened it, "_I_ noted the names and numbers of everyone who called those two in the last three weeks; we're just about certain Doctor Evil is among those, all we need to do is cross-reference. Not only that, but unless the Hiace was stolen, which I doubt considering I don't think they have the skills needed to hijack a bicycle, never mind a car, it most likely belongs to him, since this place has no parking lot. Meaning, what _I_ found allows the investigation to go forward by finding clues on the identity of the third culprit."

Both Tanuki and Natsuki could only stare while the captain grinned smugly and slid the notebook back in his pocket, then picked up the discarded bag and started filling it with the gathered evidence. "I'll be taking all this to the lab now, I need to get back to the station anyway. Oh, and I took the liberty of calling Ichidouji and giving her the list, so you don't need to worry about that." He picked up the now full bag in his hand, grunted as he lifted it up from the table, and left the apartment, his thin lips twisted lopsidedly in amusement the whole way.

As the door closed behind him, the two partners shared a look.

"He's got decades of experience," Natsuki said.

"Yeah, it's normal he knows where to look." Yuuki agreed, if only to preserve his pride. Ishigami snickered.

Silence covered the room for a few seconds, and before it could get too awkward, there was a sound, like the furious purring of a cat high on catnip, or the growling of an angry dog. After a short glance at Durhan, who tilted his head in a "wasn't me" way, the two adults turned to look at Natsuki. She blushed embarrassedly and put a hand on her stomach.

"Sorry," she muttered. Yuuki gave a glance at the clock on the oven; it showed 13:30, well past dinner time.

"I guess I'm kinda hungry too," the Kansaijin said, passing a hand through his long hair and sighing. "Not too sure what I want, though."

"How about—"

"Not Pizza."

"Hmph."

He was startled when Ishigami put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a grin. "Has princess shown you the Linden Baum yet?"

"The Linden Baum?"

-

-------------

-

As they entered the Linden Baum, Yuuki shot a frown at the little girl who was his partner.

"Why didn't you tell me about this place?" He asked. "We could have spared ourselves from a few headaches Sunday."

"They don't serve pizza here," she replied with a shrug and a grin. He rolled his eyes, then looked about.

The Linden Baum was a nice restaurant, with plenty of room and a comfortable, clean atmosphere. It was modeled after stereotypical American restaurants, with plushy brilliant crimson and white bench-seats framing each of the rectangular wall-hugging tables, and somewhat comfortable (if for limited amounts of time) chairs surrounding those closer to the center, six chairs for each. Small lamps hung low over them, while potted flowers similarly hung much closer to the ceiling, spreading their scent agreeably; the night atmosphere, Yuuki reflected, was probably pretty cozy and private, perhaps even romantic.

All and all, it seemed like a very nice place to eat. And another plus point for it was that it was built on the other side of the street in front of the Headquarters. As a result, it was probably the most secure restaurant in all of Minato, and seeing officers in uniform eating at the tables was nothing unusual, hence why he almost overlooked the three women sitting at one of the central tables near the cashier counter: Ichidouji, a very pretty black-haired girl he hadn't met yet and what's-her-last-name-again Haruko, the receptionist, who was the only one with any food left in her plate, and who was talking animatedly about something he couldn't quite tell.

"I think you got the wrong idea," the unknown girl interrupted Haruko's tirade about something being wrong with her. "I heard he and princess were right next to the attack, his shirt probably got damaged there. And you know how she is with her Mayo."

"But... I mean..."

"Oh!" Ichidouji cut it, pointing at them. The two other women looked ("erk!" went Haruko), and while Yuuki gave them a smile and a nod, Ishigami walked toward them and pulled one of the empty chairs, sitting next to Ichidouji.

"Mind if we sit here?" he asked. The unknown girl shook her head and smiled.

"We were nearly done-- just waiting for Haruko-chan to discover the actual 'eating' function of her mouth."

"Ha-ha. Funny."

Following his lead, Yuuki and Natsuki sat down, the little girl, to Haruko's chagrin, taking the chair right next to her, leaving Yuuki to sit at the end, between Ishigami and the bluette, in front of the girl-whose-name-he-didn't-know-yet. Now that he was closer, he could easily tell she wasn't Japanese by her (very attractive, he noted) features, and while her pronunciation was perfect (in Kanto-ben, that is), she had an odd lilt, and a very variable tonality; she was obviously a foreigner. Her voice was also strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he had heard it before…

"Oh, that's right, this is the first time the two of you meet, isn't it?" Haruko asked. "Ai-chan, this is Detective Tanaka Yuuki, A.K.A Tanuki. Tanuki, this is Ai Hăng Lê, one of the radio operators."

"Pleasure to meet you," he said smoothly. Radio operator, huh? That explained why her voice sounded familiar. She smiled.

"Likewise," she replied; he correctly placed her accent as Vietnamese, though her name had been enough to tip him off. She continued, "So you're the one who peeped on Princess and ran around the station half-naked with Durhan chasing him?"

Whaaa! What kind of rumors were spreading around? Before he could deny them, the little brat gave a confirming noise.

"Yup! He tried to put in a spy camera, too," she lied outrageously. He shot her a glare, which she replied with a raspberry. To his surprise, though, Ai simply giggled in amusement.

"Don't worry, I already knew it wasn't true; that was just the most _extreme_ version I heard," she explained. "The spy camera's a new one, though, although it doesn't beat the 'trying to drill a peep hole in the door' version."

Yuuki sighed. Great, so this place was like _that_, huh? "So I'm in the middle of the rumor mill. Great."

"Good," Ishigami said, "that means they'll leave me alone about that parking thing."

"Actually, that's not quite true; the latest one has you having parked your car in front of the Amercian Embassy's driveway and had it towed all the way to Shinjuku," Ai replied. Ishigami let out a defeated sigh.

"I just can't win, can I?"

"Nope!" The Vietnamese woman grinned. To Yuuki, she continued, "don't worry, I gave the other radio operators Haruko-chan's version; she gave me a pretty detailed description of what happened—too detailed, I feel."

The brunette shrugged. "Just because you can't appreciate it…"

Hn? What could she mean by that? Before he could think about it more, the black-haired woman continued, "so they'll spread the real version around… if they feel like it, I mean."

"That means: 'don't count on it'," Ishigami warned. "The radio crew are the worst bunch of rumor-spreading gossips in the station."

"Ehh, _hidoi_, Ishigami!" Ai whined, while Haruko gave an unladylike snicker at her. Ichidouji (with cheeks flushed a bit from the memory of the event) raised her hand shyly, voicing a dim "Ano…"

Haruko rolled her eyes. "Speak loud, Eriko-chan!" she crooned.

The busty brunette took a steadying breath, and continued, "I…I did the research on Sunao-san, and—"

"ARGH! Not work! We're on lunch break!" Haruko protested.

Ai raised an eyebrow and looked down at Haruko's half-eaten salad. The receptionist sheepishly replied by taking a quick bite. Ai turned toward the researcher. "That's the brother of the guy who was wearing a leprechaun suit, right?"

"Leprechaun suit?" Yuuki repeated. Ishigami gave a shrug.

"As I said, they're hopeless rumor-mongers," he said, then ducked as Ai swatted at him, almost poking Ichidouji on the nose in the process.

"So, what did you find?" the little girl asked. Ichidouji cleared her throat, then fished in her purse for a bunch of folded up papers, which she promptly read out loud.

"Ueda Sunao, 24 years old. Has college education but failed the entrance exam at Temple University twice. His criminal record is mostly clean, except for a minor even in middle school when he apparently brought a knife inside the building and started playing with it in the classroom. No one got hurt except himself: he apparently cut his own vein on his index. He's also noted as being quite clumsy."

"A knife?" Natsuki repeated in disbelief. Ichidouji nodded.

"He got expelled for it, too," she added, before continuing, "he's not mentioned as having any hobbies, but then I haven't had time to cross reference everything yet. He works full time as a janitor in a major research lab in Meguro-ku."

"Is that out of our jurisdiction?" Yuuki asked. Ishigami shook his head.

"Naa. We handle the crimes in Minato-ku, but if an investigation takes us to another ward, we don't need permission to follow it, so long as it's not outside of Tokyo proper. It'd be an administrative nightmare otherwise," he explained. Yuuki nodded, then looked promptingly at Ichidouji.

"What kind of lab is it?"

"Orphan Research," she replied. Yuuki and Natsuki immediately perked up and, understanding them, she quickly added, "nothing about controlling or creating Orphans—or at least, not as far as I could see." When they deflated, she continued, "it's a pretty high-security place, though; if you want to look in it, you'll need an authorization."

"How long do you think we'll have to wait?" Yuuki asked. Ichidouji grinned weakly.

"Not long—the Chief's handling it. I pity those she'll have to step on to get it."

"Always the receptionists and secretaries…" Haruko bemoaned, then grinned. "Boy am I glad I won't ever have her calling _me!_"

"No, she just pops in behind you while you're playing solitaire instead," Ai teased. The brunette's grin vanished in embarrassment.

"Does this lab have a name?" Yuuki asked. Ichidouji nodded.

"The lab itself doesn't really have one, but the company that owns it does… It's Glearcorp Incorporated."

Only Ichidouji, who had looked pointedly at her, noticed how Natsuki suddenly tensed up.

-

-

-

-

**Akuma-sama's notes: **

The thieves, as you might have guessed, are something of a parody of fictional thieves. No, a monocle and a top hat will _not_ hide your face from cameras. -pokes Kaito Kid-

Don't bother looking up "Ameri-otaku", I made it up. Its etymology makes sense, though, and I like it; that's what counts. :p

Sorry if the chapter was long, but I just couldn't logically cut it anywhere; at least, not without breaking the flow. And I did _not_ want to do that. I also don't like how it turned out; I'll probably have to revisit it later to edit it… like I did for the last scenes of chapter 3.

And about Natsuki, I hope I didn't make her look _too_ ignorant; there's a reason why she knows less than regular 13 years olds would, but I'm having issues keeping track of how much she should know; if she seems schizophrenically puzzled sometimes, it's my fault entirely. XD

-

**Japanese notes:**

Erm… scratch that 's'

Hidoi: Horrible, mean. When used lightly, it's very feminine.

-

-

-

-


	6. Chapter 5: Ash Grey

_The people watching the scene would later remember the youngest and most important actor in the scene by three details: her long, silky mane of dark blue hair, her stunningly brilliant green eyes – and the way those eyes were twisted, with the rest of her face, in a scowl that had nothing to do with her single-digit age. The object she was scowling at, after all, would have made brave men three or four times her age tremble at its implications. _

_The object in question was black. Had the little girl been more jaded by age, she would have rolled her eyes at the typicality and unoriginality of it, or perhaps even wondered (in a typically flippant manner, of course,) if she had a choice of colors: perhaps a dark blue to match her hair? Or a green for her eyes? After all, if the object in question was ever activated, she wouldn't exactly have the chance to make herself presentable before someone would find her corpse. Of course, as she had only been nine years old at the time, none of these morbid thoughts would cross through her brain until two years later, far too late to ask for a different paint job on it. _

_The two handguns pointed at her head did not waver (not that she really noticed them anymore; she'd been at gunpoint whenever she wasn't "properly secured" in her cell for the past two weeks, now) as the man in a white lab-coat closed it around her neck like a pincer and, after making sure her hair wasn't in the way, fastened it with a loud and __**final**__ click. _

_It was surprisingly light and balanced, forgettably so, and while its hard plastic surface was a bit cold, she could already feel it warming up to her body heat. She moved her neck a bit and found, to her relief, that the injection needles on both sides were far enough as to avoid scratching her whenever she moved as she had feared. Apparently, whoever had designed the damned thing had given half a thought about the comfort of the person—nay, the HiME– wearing it. _

_Even now, the thought never failed to make her snort in disgust. _

"It's in place,"_ the man said afterward. The person whom the little girl thought looked like a wigged clown in black, who had been watching the proceedings from his seat oh-so-high above her and the rest of the crowd like a metaphorical moral high ground, gave a satisfied nod. _

"Then," _he began, _"Kuga Natsuki, you will begin to serve your sentence tomorrow. An officer will come to you and take you to the station where you will begin your re-integration. In the meantime, your custody has been given, per your lawyer's recommendations, to Miss Himeno Fumi and her Orphanage, who will receive one of your remotes for her and her charges' protection. Understand that any unlawful excesses will bring you right back in this room, and that this court will not show you this exceptional leniency ever again. Case closed, court dismissed."

_And the judge stood from the bench and left the courtroom to take a break until the next case, and the very small crowd of bored-looking witnesses picked up their things to leave. Her lawyer, who had stood stoically near her until now, bent down and reached forward to hug her, but suddenly thought better (__**good**__, had thought Natsuki at the time) and simply put a hand on her shoulder. _

"Natsuki, I'm… I'm sorry I couldn't do more…"

_And the little girl moved harshly to shove the offending hand away, then crossed her arms and huffed with a sneer. _"Whatever."

_The officers took her away, their special-issue firearms having been returned to their holsters, but still within easy reach. And, despite the woman calling her name with a voice tinted with guilt at her own impotence, Natsuki did not look back. _

-

Pressing her back further against the cool stones that framed the furo, the girl sighed and looked up at the white Victorian-style ceiling. It had been a while since something had made her remember _that_, the last moment she had spent without that thrice-damned collar hanging around her neck like a noose or a proverbial sword of Damocles.

Back then, Natsuki hadn't felt grateful at all for the woman and the uninvited help she gave. She had told herself that she was a tough girl, that she could handle whatever they would decide to throw at her, and that she didn't need help from someone like _her_. She hadn't asked for any help, but had gotten it anyway, on that woman's own undeniably stubborn decision. Now that Natsuki knew what she had avoided, however, she felt like going back in time and smacking some sense into her ingrate younger self.

Her life certainly wasn't so bad; the Himeno Koujin was a very nice place, spacious despite being the home of a dozen girls between the ages of ten and seventeen. She had been surprised, at first, to find how _fancy_ it was; she had expected it to be a dull, grey, dreary place led by stone-faced matrons and where kids were all forced to wear the same uniform all the time like she had seen on TV. She had been pleasantly surprised to find it to be very free-minded, richly colored and furnished in a style she had heard being described as 'Victorian' (whatever that meant). And the only matron, Himeno Fumi, or Fumi-obaachan as she wanted to be called, was a gentle, lovable woman; as the rumors went, she had been left barren by something in her past, who had decided to use her important inherited wealth to build her Orphanage and take care of abandoned children.

Well, that was the believable story; the ten years old Imai twins still preferred to believe and spread around the rumor that she was an Alien who wanted to study young humans in their natural habitats. It didn't help that Fumi-obaachan found it amusing and actually encouraged them.

She sighed again, watching as wisps of steam twisted and spun with the otherwise invisible passage of her breath. At first, she had resented living in the Himeno Koujin; she had been aggressive and snappish to the other kids, had botched or simply ignored her chores, had done _everything_ to push everyone away and, for the most part, had managed to isolate herself in her bubble.

For the most part. Two people had never stopped trying to bring her out of her shell, and had ultimately been victorious it after a full year of effort: Fumi-obaachan and the only other HiME in the house, Shizuru. Especially the latter; even back then, Natsuki had been able to feel a kindred spirit in the red-eyed Kyotoite, something that went beyond their merely being HiMEs.

Frowning in irritation as her mind continued to wander, she kicked her foot out of the water, pulling it rapidly under as the humid air seemed to suck all the warmth out of her skin. And talking about her skin, her fingers were starting to prune…

She sighed for a third time. "Time to face the music, I guess…"

She rose out of the bath, dripping water as she headed for her bath bucket for the mercifully dry towel. She did not notice her fingers softly caressing the only indentation in the smooth plastic surface of the collar around her neck, a Logo she knew so well she could have drawn nearly perfectly even if she had never seen it before.

Four lines, sharply angled and pointed to form an open four-pointed star, framing a single name.

-

**Glearcorp Inc.**

-

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**My**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**-**

**Disclaimer: **I probably own something, I suppose, but Mai HiME isn't it.

**Special thanks to my beta, Sebastian Palm!**

**-**

**Chapter 5: **Ash Grey

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-

"Why are we going there again?"

Tanaka Yuuki sighed and would have run a hand through his hair had he not been driving the patrol car into a curve. This was the seventh time she had asked this question since he had picked her up from the Orphanage. Based on her track record, he was tempted to believe she was doing it to annoy him, but his detective instincts were telling him otherwise. The tension around her was palpable; something about their situation was making her very nervous.

With a sigh, he explained again.

The research lab they were heading towards was the largest that the multibillion, multinational experimental weapon and defensive arms corporation Glearcorp International had in Japan, and the third largest in the world, behind the ones in Seattle and Berlin. The exact research involved inside the facility itself was a secret not even Eriko and the research bunnies had managed to extirpate from under the carpet, but the list of the products released by the company was enough to give a fairly clear idea of what it could be.

The company specialized in high-technology weaponry or defensive mechanisms meant to be used against Photon-based life-forms, although it also produced a few related products on the side. In layman's terms, it produced Orphan-busting weapons. Yuuki had been quite surprised to find out that the rifle Kumaji had handed him was one of Glearcorp's creations.

This sphere of research, however, made the older Tetsuo brother's employment inside the facility, even as a janitor, to be highly suspicious. A thief using Orphans working inside a facility researching the same creatures? It was too much of a coincidence for the Chief, or indeed Yuuki himself, to ignore. And thus, the Chief had used all of her political weight into giving them access to the facility, or at least the relevant parts of it. Needless to say, it was granted; no one wanted to argue with Chief Akitori for longer than strictly necessary.

"At the very least, think of what the chief would do to us if we _didn't_ go after she made the effort of granting us a way in," Yuuki finished ominously. The little girl made a distant noise, not moving from how she'd been sitting for the last twenty minutes, looking outside with her right hand playing with something under her hair; most likely that weird collar of hers.

Then, after about six minutes of radio-filled silence – _"Still no explanation have been given for the unusual string of Orphan attacks that has plagued the ward of Minato for the last few days, nor have the authorities spoken up as to whether or not it was a mere coincidence…"—_she spoke again.

"…do we _really_ have to go?"

This time, he didn't bother answering.

-

-------------

-

_--Saturday, August 10th, 1996, 9:23 AM--_

-

The sight of First class detective Kumaji Keitaro scowling irritably with his broad and mustached face, while opening one of the back doors of his white and black squad car would have made most people hesitate, or at least feel a tad nervous. Under no circumstances would a normal person felt happy and eager to get inside, or jump on the seat with a light bounce and a wide grin.

This showed to prove that Kuga Natsuki, ten years old, had left 'normal' far enough behind her for it to cough at her dust.

Of course, the main reason for this discrepancy was that whereas a normal person would have been afraid of what would be waiting for them at the end of the trip, young Natsuki was actually looking forward to it. After all, if everything went well, this would be the first day of the rest of her youth, a youth without any paperwork to bore her to tears or damned pen-pushers looking down at her like she was some kind of dangerous disease-carrying parasite.

Her seatbelt was already buckled by the short time Kumaji took to walk around the patrol car to the driver seat and open the door. By the time he was secured and the key was in the ignition, the little girl was bouncing on her seat, something that drew a gruff sneer from the much older and jaded officer.

"Allright, let's set a few ground rules first," he told her, and she froze, her face taking on a childishly serious air. "Active police work is dangerous and difficult, and if you cause any kind of trouble to me, you'll go back to working with the folks in administration. We're trying something here, but if you can't do it, we'll send you back somewhere you can't cause any damage. Understood?"

The little girl nodded, sitting _very_ still suddenly. He made a gruff snort.

"First," he said, raising one finger, "You do what I ask you to. No questions, no complaints, and any disobedience and you'll wake up in your bed after a long nap." He patted the remote, partly visible in his chest pocket, for emphasis. She nodded hesitatingly with a nervous pat at the collar around her neck.

"Second, I call the shots. You don't come anywhere near the crime scene, you don't touch a thing, you don't even do so much as _breathe_ without my permission. You can breathe, by the way," he added after she childishly made a show of taking a deep breath and holding it.

"And third, I want you to learn," he finished, raising a third finger. "If, and I say _IF_, this situation repeats itself, I want you to make yourself useful as quickly as possible. In other words, you watch what I do, try to follow the way I think, and you try to make your own version of the crime. _However_, you don't act on it unless I tell you to, and if you think it makes a lot of sense, you share it with me before you try anything. _That_ probably won't matter for a while, at least until you make all the newbie mistakes. Understood?"

"Shut up, sit still and stare. Got it," she said with a nod and a grin.

The gruff officer's scowling face didn't change. Natsuki's grin faded.

-

-------------

-

_--Wednesday, May 3rd, 1999, 9:48 AM--_

-

"And there we are," Yuuki said as he closed the door, Natsuki doing the same, if hesitatingly, only a few seconds later.

The Japanese Glearcorp Research Institute was an impressive and massive building, made of multiple pavilions, at least a dozen floors and, he guessed, quite a few basements, as things went for buildings of this type. The path leading from the high security parking to the front doors was clean, made of large slabs of white concrete and framed by nearly unnoticeable knee-height fences and a perfectly cared for lawn, which the fences served to protect from being trampled by employees more than anything. The institute was built on a gigantic plot of land, by Tokyoite standards, which easily measured a hundred and fifty meters across. Add to it the immaculate state of the building itself, from the grey walls to the large silver-on-gold "Glearcorp Inc." logo cast directly into the concrete, and its location, west of Minato-ku and about as close to Tokyo proper as could be, and it made Yuuki whistle from the sheer _cost_ of it all.

If a company had this much money to frivolously spend on sugar-coating an extreme-security facility like this one, how much could it be worth? Certainly mowing and caring for that lawn _alone_ was worth a pretty penny. Producing anti-Orphan weapons must be a lot more profitable than he had thought, though he suspected political foul play being at work somewhere.

A small flight of stairs, with no other discernable purpose than further embellishment, led to an eight meters deep deck bearing nothing but a pair of somewhat uncomfortable benches and small trash cans. While this gave it the appearance of a smoking area for the employees, Yuuki, as he and Natsuki walked between the tall walls that framed the deck, noticed the no-smoking sign and the two cameras on the far end, near the front doors. There was also a notable lack of cigarette butts on the immaculate ground. This had to be yet _another_ security system. Why they would bother to make a front door so easy to barricade, however, was beyond him.

Then, they walked through one of the four sets of front doors, and entered the entrance lobby.

'_Wow, the architect of this place must have had a field day,_' was Yuuki's first thought. The second was that the place was positively huge. And the third was that it was definitely, in many ways, strange.

The room was mostly square, about thirty meters across and mostly devoid of anything of interest. There wasn't a seat in sight for people to sit on, which, considering the state of security the building was under, was very easily explainable. The walls were made of large stone slabs, thick and sturdy enough to require high explosives to nudge, never mind punch through, and so perfectly flat that the room, despite its relatively small dimensions, enjoyed a pronounced echo. The middle of the ceiling immediately caught his eyes, though; there was a huge, circular skylight through it, piercing through the regular-height ceiling of the lobby and the dozen or so floors above in a series of circular balconies to reach a dome-like window through the roof.

More impressive and puzzling than the obvious security issue the window caused, though, was the very large blue-teal glass crystal, shaped like yet another four-pointed star, that hung vertically somewhere between the second and third floors, held in place by ugly black cables. The thing probably weighed nearly a ton; it was about four meters tall for three wide, and Yuuki strongly wondered _why_ a top-secret research facility would have bothered with a purposeless frivolity like that.

The floor was mostly featureless, except for the design on it; It was the same sign that hung over the door, the Glearcorp Inc. logo, only this one was adorned, two words above the name and two more below, with what appeared to be the company's motto: "Safer World - Better Tomorrow". There was also something strange, which Yuuki _almost_ missed in his initial look-over; there appeared to be circular features carved into the stone slabs of the ground, at regular intervals to form a circle around the logo. What didn't make sense was that, where one of them was supposed to be, and with apparently no regard for symmetry, was a ten meters tall column made of ugly and crackled brown rock intermittently freckled with what appeared to be small green crystals. It was the gaudiest, most tasteless piece of decoration he had ever seen, and didn't seem to accomplish any kind of purpose. Maybe it was some kind of surveillance device?

The receptionist, behind the metal and composite counter on the other end of the room, was quite pretty, in his connoisseur's opinion. What he could see of her figure was quite interesting and enhanced by the somewhat tight blue and white uniform she wore. Her face was attractive and perfect, except for one detail: her glaring almond-shaped eyes were cold as ice. The soul behind those windows was serious, cold, calculating and lived through her work… at least, if he read her right.

Either way, previous experience with her type made him forget about trying anything with her; he was in no hurry to repeat _that_ particular disaster.

"Welcome to Glearcorp," she said stiffly in textbook-perfect polite Japanese. "Tanaka Yuuki, I presume?"

"Ah, yes," he said. "I've got clearance to interrogate a few of Ueda Sunao-san's co-workers—"

"I am aware of that," she cut in while her eyes grew even colder, giving him the impression that he had done some unimaginable sin in her direction. "And she is…"

When she didn't reply, Yuuki glanced behind him. The little brat was standing near the middle of the room, staring at the pillar with a peculiar expression of… well, he recognized disgust, which meant she had at least a modicum of taste, but the rest of it he simply couldn't identify. Bah, no matter. Seeing as no response would be forthright, he turned towards the receptionist with an almost apologetic shrug.

"Kuga Natsuki, my partner… kinda." Damn, but he still felt stupid saying that a thirteen years old brat was his partner.

"Hmph," came from the little girl, who had apparently come back to her senses. Her light footsteps echoed around the room as she approached.

"I'll need you to put your hands on the plate for ID," the receptionist announced, pointing at a small square flat device on her desk. Yuuki went first, and whistled in surprise when multiple laser beams went and scanned each of his fingers. There was a sound from the computer, and the woman nodded, apparently satisfied. The little girl went next, and as she put her hand on it, Yuuki blinked and spared himself an internal whistle in realization that this place had access to the national information databank, something even the police had only a carefully monitored access to.

The lasers ran over the little girl's fingerprints, and the computer rang a sound. This time, however, the woman frowned. Her stare, directed at Kuga, grew even colder, something he hadn't believed could be possible, as she said:

"Kuga-san, because of the experimental and sensitive nature of our research, HiMEs are not allowed within this facility. I'm afraid I must ask you to leave immediately."

-

-------------

-

_--Saturday, August 10th, 1996, 9:42 AM--_

-

Natsuki fidgeted.

No, that wasn't quite right. Natsuki was past the point of fidgeting. She was also past the point of glancing at the passing scenery, past the point of mentally humming songs, and well into the point of wondering if she could ask about turning on the radio without ending up hauling paperwork around 'till she was old and grey, or, more importantly, if she could ask about their destination without meeting one or more of such grisly fates.

The patrol car had left the station about twenty minutes ago and had embarked on the highway nearly fifteen minutes later. As a true-born Tokyoite, Natsuki wasn't lost at all. Unfortunately, the arterial nature of the highway made trying to guess where they were going a very difficult task indeed. But that wasn't the biggest problem, in the nine years old bluette's mind. _That_ was the silence that ruled supreme in the car; since he had laid down the rules to her before they left, they hadn't spoken one word, and although his stony, brawn face wasn't exactly the easiest to read she had seen, she could somehow tell he didn't like her much.

She could hazard a guess as to why, though.

Hmph, adults.

The car left the expressway soon afterward, and Natsuki felt a small wave of excited trepidation flow through her as she recognized the general area; it was somewhere she had never gone to personally, but she had heard plenty of stories and rumors about it to make her nine years old mind create some kind of image of that area as a rowdy, dangerous and seedy area, full of armed Yakuza and drunken brawls at every hour of the day.

She was, therefore, a bit disappointed when the police car's parking at the entrance of a pedestrian street didn't end up having dozens of brawny men bearing knives and other weapons giving them dark looks. Except for the preponderance of romaji and plain English signs as opposed to other such commercial areas, the Roppongi she had heard so much about was… remarkably normal. On both sides stood commercial buildings that stood no lower than six or seven stories of height, packed together with ad signs that waited nothing but nighttime to light themselves up, organized in a typically haphazard clutter of things being set on top of one another without a care of what it ultimately looked like. The crowds were thick and noisy, rich with smells and colors, and although most of the people around were obviously Japanese, Natsuki managed to spot more than a dozen foreigners within a minute of entering it, something that would be fairly difficult elsewhere in Tokyo.

Natsuki followed Kumaji's long strides with a quick jog of her much shorter legs, staying in the burly uniform-clad man's wake to avoid getting swallowed by the crowd. She spotted a few curious stares and dutifully ignored them, focusing instead on not losing track of him. It was only thanks to the intense attention she'd been giving him that she didn't ram right into him when he suddenly stopped.

"We're here," he told her, and she looked. They had stopped in front of a small nameless restaurant whose vocation was told plainly by the sign emblazoned by a steaming coffee cup, hanging over the privacy curtain used as an traditional-styled entrance (though ancient entrances didn't have metal doors with fly screens behind said curtains), itself tightly stuck between two staircases in a way that made it nearly impossible to spot. He gave her a look she couldn't read, a kind of disapproving frown, and then walked in, leaving her behind to follow and wonder what it meant.

Why was he mad at her? She hadn't spoken, she hadn't gotten in his way (hadn't had time to, anyway!)… hell, she didn't even know what they were doing in this place to begin with. Maybe that was it? Maybe she was supposed to somehow guess? Maybe it was a test?

Had he given any kind of hint? Not as far as she could remember—

Her mind de-railed as she stepped into the restaurant. It was not because of its appearance, for it looked like just about any other coffee shop. Nor was it the smell, as the strong smell of coffee beans mixed together in a pleasant way. Nor was it because of the people, since, except for them, the only person inside was the owner, a tall, bony man with notable sideburns whose pleasant demeanor soured into annoyance as soon as he saw them.

It was because of the _heat_. The place was warm, almost uncomfortably so, and when contrasted to the chilly autumnal weather they were having, the result was a wave of hot air that seemed almost unbearable. She started fanning herself with her shirt, wishing she hadn't worn her warmest hoodie today.

"This again? I told you already, I don't know what happened to her!" the owner erupted.

Kumaji seemed totally unbothered by the heat, or by the man's hostility. "Oh yes, I remember your statement very well. Only, I happened to be going around the neighborhood, and I decided to come and see if time had jostled anything in your memory, seeing as this is the last place she was reported as being seen at."

Her? She? Who were they talking about? Maybe someone famous ate here recently?

Something told her that wasn't it, although she wasn't sure what. Maybe it was the tone they were talking into? Statement? Being seen?

'Ahh, I see.' The man was a witness for some missing person's case, a girl or woman. That had to be it. So a detective usually went and regularly returned to witnesses to get new leads. That made sense. She noted it down mentally, proud of herself. But why was it so damn hot in here?

She looked around. She had never been in a coffee house before, but she guessed it must have been similar to every other such places in the city; the walls were beige and adorned with dozens of black and white pictures, and a handful of color ones. The wooden floor was clean and matched with the walls and tables, themselves cozy and welcoming. Behind the owner's register was what she supposed was a menu, but the fact that the writing was all in English made it impossible for her to read it; did he expect all of his clients to have perfect English or something?

She could hear and feel a peculiar rumble in the air and floor, as if something large and metallic was vibrating somewhere in the basement; it wasn't anything terrible, though. All and all, it would have been a very decent place to eat at, had it not been for the heat.

"Well I don't remember anything more," the man replied stubbornly.

"I see. Too bad. And I see your… Frigophobia hasn't gotten any better."

Frigowhat? And why did Kumaji sound like he didn't believe it in the first place? Damnit, if only she could ask questions…

"Ah… yes, well… winter is coming, after all," he replied. There was something uncomfortable in his voice, but she didn't pay it any mind; of course he'd be uncomfortable, in this heat… anyone would.

And about that, Kumaji hadn't forbidden her from removing her hoodie, had he? Good. The hands that had been busy fanning her body released the t-shirt she wore underneath to grasp the much heavier cotton piece and pull it off. Her shirt followed just a bit, just enough to reveal the flame-shaped mark on her flank.

"She's a HiME?!" And it hadn't been missed by the shop's owner.

"Yes she is. Is there something wrong with that?"

"There _is_! We have a strict no-HiME policy, and it's well within my rights to ask you to get her out of here before some Orphan comes and wrecks years of hard work!"

She scowled. That's a myth! Nothing but lousy superstition spread by idiots who don't know what they're talking about, was what she wanted to say, but Kumaji's words remained in her mind and she kept quiet. Great, she'd have to sit this one in the car, it seemed—

"Well I'm afraid you'll have to make an exception for her."

"And why should I?!"

"Because she's my partner."

-

-------------

-

_--Wednesday, May 3rd, 1999, 9:55 AM--_

-

"I'm afraid I must ask you to leave immediately."

Natsuki glared at the woman, who glared back with pursed lips, as if she was looking at something revolting littering in her personal space. She thought she could just tell her to leave like that? Hah! Who did she think she was? What did she think her company was? Sure, officers (and that included her, this time) had to respect safety procedures and regulations whenever they went in a place like this, but refusing her access simply because of what she was couldn't be right. It was discri…discrimin… unfair, and there was no way it was going to—

"I see. Kuga, go back in the car."

…happen—say what?!

She stared in disbelief. Just like that? He was just shoving her back in the car like that? Letting them just walk on top of them, of the police, of her **and** of every HiME like that?

Hmph, well obviously. Here he was given a chance to get rid of her on a golden platter. Of course he was going to take it, the total bastard. He couldn't possibly understand what this facility meant for her. Yeah, so it scared the hell out of her? Some part of her _wanted_ to see it, to see the people responsible for that deadly little piece of plastic around her neck.

Disbelief turned into a simmering anger. She stomped her way to the doors, her slight weight clapping her running shoes against the boring tiles of the ground and doing little more than pinching her feet, and pushed them open. She shot a glare at her so-called _partner_'s back, absolutely certain of one thing.

Kumaji would have never pushed her away like that.

-

-------------

-

As he heard the door close behind his partner, Yuuki allowed himself a relieved sigh. With the number of times she had asked about it, it was obvious she hadn't wanted to be anywhere near this place in particular (he still wondered why, though, but figured it had something to do with her being a little girl and boring laboratories with nothing to play with – kids, go figure), and he hadn't been looking forward to spending the next few hours interrogating people while having to corral her around like a wolf on a leash.

A top-secret weapon research facility was the last place he felt comfortable bringing a child her age into.

Still, he wasn't sufficiently dishonest with himself to be unaware of his own selfish designs; just once, being able to work away from her for a few hours at work would do wonders for his patience.

The receptionist gave him a curt nod and a printed note on which simple directions were written.

"You may proceed. These are the directions toward director of maintenance Takeda Wataru-san. You are cleared for level 0 areas only, but Wataru-san may lead you to any areas he himself is cleared for, so long as he is given a sufficiently good reason. Welcome to glearcorp."

And the inches-thick doors at the side of her desk slid open with a pneumatic sound and the rumble of something massive running on rolling balls. It certainly didn't feel like a welcome.

-

The facility was honestly dreary. Uniform white hallways lit in a likewise fashion by covered fluorescent tubes, and the occasional door marked either with numbers or with friendly inscriptions such as "Authorized Personnel Only" and "High-danger Area" were the only things he saw as he followed the directions. The few people he had crossed along the way were all dressed in lab coats, some leaded, some not, and while the great majority of them was silent, few of them went in groups…

"_I'm not sure where we could get the samples from, but your theory has merits, I'll talk to the director about it. It doesn't explain why they only suddenly started to appear fifty years ago though, or why they can have children with humans." _

"_Snowball effect. One of them was born, and her presence caused the gene—"_ the doors closed behind them.

…but their conversations were impossible to follow for him. He didn't cross a single security guard, but saw a few security cameras scattered around strategically. He also found himself crossing an abnormal number of open safety hatches, which appeared wastefully thick if their only purpose was to stop a fire or a gas from spreading around. Which, considering what this facility did, it probably wasn't.

In sharp contrast, however, the office of the maintenance department's director, as well as the director himself, told of good humor and friendliness, while maintaining a sense of order and cleanness. The cloud-covered sunlight pouring through both inches-thick windows (most likely a directional perk) was partially absorbed by the pair of healthy plants hanging from the ceiling. The desk's synthetic surface was perfectly clean, except for the small pile of documents next to the computer flat-screen and the empty teacup on the other end ("'cuz some people can't be bothered," was written on it).

Takeda-san himself was much the same way. The tux he was wearing fit him perfectly, or probably would have had the top two buttons not been left undone and the necktie left tangling from the top of the computer's screen. His impeccable hair topped a tired face on which the pleasant smile he was adorning looked right at home, and while Yuuki knew one couldn't hold a position like this one without having worked for a long time, the man sitting in front of him didn't look like he was even in his forties.

"Ah, you're the police officer I was told about, aren't you?" he said a mere moment after the Kansaijin officer entered his office. and raised an eyebrow when the door closed behind him. "I was told there was supposed to be two of you, though?"

"She—I mean, my partner preferred to stay in the car," he replied semi-smoothly. It was kind-of the truth, anyway. "She's caught a little something."

"Is that so? Well, that's too bad. I hope she'll feel better soon, then."

"Thank you." Seemed like the correct thing to say, at least.

"Now, you're here about… uh…" The director glanced at his papers, then at his screen, and Yuuki took this as his cue.

"Ueda Sunao, one of the workers under your direction… though that's about all we know."

A wry grin came on the man's face. "Ah yes, him. Hiding the nature of a janitor's job even from the police, that certainly sounds like something our company would do!" he sounded more amused than proud or embarrassed, though. Apparently, unless it affected him directly, everything seemed to be a joke to this man. Yuuki couldn't stop himself from replying that infection smile with his own, though. "Yes, I know him. He hasn't come to work in about a week, it's been driving his manager up the wall."

Mentally noting down what he'd just learned, Yuuki asked, "How would you describe him?"

One of the director's fingers went up and started rubbing his shaved chin as his eyes thoughtfully found the computer screen. "Bit of a weirdo at times, immature… The kind of worker whom you wouldn't be surprised to find riding a scooter in the service tunnels, if you see what I mean," at Yuuki's patient nod, he continued, "still, he was mostly a good worker, and never complained about anything he was told to do. His immediate superior didn't report anything bad, either, but… can I ask a question?"

"Hm? Go ahead."

"Why is the police interested in him? I mean… did something happen to him? "

For a moment, Yuuki weighed the pros and cons of telling the man what was a closely kept secret. Yes, no one was supposed to know that a bunch of thieves had apparently acquired the ability to control Orphans for their own gain, but the man certainly seemed like a nice, reasonable fellow…

Then he thought about how the boss would react when she'd learn he had released police secrets to civilians related to the case.

…"_Well, he certainly looked like a nice guy, boss! I never would have guessed he'd blab to the international news about it! Yes, so our criminals fled to Hong Kong. On the bright side, they won't be bothering us anymore—"_

...**-BANG-**

Then he thought about how the boss would react when she'd learn he had come back practically empty-handed.

…"_Ah, sorry boss, but it looks like you did all that work for nothing. No harm done, right? I mean, you like terrifying everyone you talk to anyway—"_

…**-BANG-**

He shuddered, now knowing what it meant to be between a rock and a wall of rusty, tetanus-filled spikes.

Oh well. At least one solution gave him at least a _bit_ of a chance of seeing tomorrow's sun from his apartment window.

"Only if you stay very quiet about it," he replied with his most threatening voice. If the man in front of him was impressed, it didn't show. Nonetheless, he solemnly swore, with his right hand over his heart and his left arm raised to the heavens,

"Put the flame on my daughters."

Yuuki gave an uneasy smile, more certain than ever that leaving Kuga behind had been a good idea. Still, it seemed honest enough, and with a bit of apprehension, Yuuki sealed his fate and explained the general details of the case, making sure to keep as much as possible out of the story. The man's smiling face turned first into horrified astonishment, then consternation, until finally Yuuki had finished.

"I… see," was what the man replied. "I… I had no… I…" he sighed, then frowned thoughtfully and stared at Yuuki right into his eyes. "I can see why you spent so much effort getting here, then. For someone involved in something like that to be working in a research facility like this one… but I'm afraid you're on the wrong trail."

"How so?" did he know anything after all? Or was it—

"To be blunt, officer, Ueda-san was… an idiot. Oh, he was a good worker, and he never complained, but I don't know if he even understood this facility works with anti-Orphan weapons. I doubt he'd be able to tell you how to find the area of a circle, never mind knowing anything about Solid Photon Physics."

"It doesn't change the facts that he worked here," Yuuki said. "If he's not the one controlling the Orphans, then it must be one of his partners. Did he have any friends or connections here?"

"Hm…" the director frowned thoughtfully. One of his hands brought a partially chewed pen to his teeth. Finally, he gave a small nod. "I… I think I _have_ seen him with someone else before… yes, at the lunch room, he was talking with… what's his name… I forgot, but he's one of the assistants of a friend of mine—…"

Hearing the awkward pause, Yuuki asked, "Is something wrong?"

"No… well, I'm just wondering if I should…" he frowned, then glanced at something in his computer screen. Finally, he sighed and shrugged. "Well, I was asked to answer any questions you might have, and technically taking you to him _is_ part of answering them, so…" a grin appeared on his face, "and if I get into trouble for that, I'll at least have the consolation of knowing it was for a good cause this time! Here, follow me."

-

And he did. The director guided him through a handful of confusing corridors with an ease that quite literally dazzled the confused kansaijin officer. Their destination was beyond a sliding door bearing the inscription of "C-L-09", and turned out to be a fairly normal, if a bit dark, office. That is, with the exception of the blackboard that covered well over half of the left wall, which was itself covered from corner to corner with quantum physics equations that gave him a headache just looking at them. In the far corner, facing the right wall, was a desk that would have been spacious had every square inch of its surface not been covered with documents and loose piles of papers, as well as the occasional open book and electronic notepad.

Sitting in the desk's chair was a squat man, a bit round around the belly perhaps, with long graying hair tied in a ponytail, was talking in the phone, apparently so engrossed by the conversation he was having and by what he was looking at on his computer that he simply hadn't noticed the maintenance director and the police officer entering his office.

"…yes, I--… yes… Like I said, I was very impressed by what you wrote, Sa---er, Saotome-san, and I'd be honored if--… you will? Oh thank you so m--… of course… yes… we can discuss…" the man turned to look at the papers at his right, apparently to find one where he could note something down, and finally spotted the two men at the entrance. His eyes froze over Yuuki's uniform, and it took a few seconds before he started to speak again, "Ah… Saotome-san? It looks like we'll have to continue this conversation later… yes… thank you. And thank you again for accepting, I'll call you back later."

And he stood immediately after hanging up, giving a respectful bow at Yuuki. "What can I do for you, officer?"

"Detective," Yuuki corrected, then raised an eyebrow at his guide, "and I'm wondering that myself."

"Ah…" Takeda-san noised, then cleared his throat and spoke, "Tanaka-san, this is Dr. Morigawa Hiro, one of the key brains in this here facility."

"You're exaggerating a bit, Wataru-kun," the scientist said with an embarrassed but immodest grin. "It'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but seeing as I don't know why you're here for…"

"I thought he'd be interested to know about your assistant… uh… what—"

The scientist's grin vanished under a veil of gloom. "Tokiichi-kun."

"Who?" Yuuki repeated around the cap of his pen, while writing in his notebook.

"Tokiichi Konishi, my assistant. Though seeing as he hasn't given a sign of life in the last six days, ex-assistant is more accurate."

"Koni…shi… I see. Six days, you say?" That would have been last Friday, one day before he'd started working and met Kuga, and two days before the first attack. Convenient timing.

"That's also the last day I've seen Ueda-san, by the way," Takeda-san put in. "And I've seen those two eat together in the cafeteria a few times, now."

"Oh, so he's investigating on my wayward assistant's disappearance?"

"Well, not exac—" "Yes, exactly," Yuuki cut in. No need to break the secret to the whole city. "He, Ueda-san and his brother disappeared, and I'm the one tasked with finding them." The look Takeda-san shot his way was one of apologetic understanding.

"I see," said Dr. Morigawa. "I'm afraid I don't know where he's been; like I said, he hasn't shown up here in a while—see here?" he pointed at his desk, "I don't have time to do the cleaning, he usually did it… same thing here," he pointed at the blackboard, "every time I start cleaning it, I get distracted with some idea and end up adding even _more_ things on it. I've already requested his dismissal—in fact, I was talking to his replacement just now."

"You… used him for petty cleaning?" was all Yuuki had to say. The older man nodded with a sniff.

"Yes, well… he was very good at that. Not at the rest of it, though. If I'd have to qualify him as something, it's 'book smart'. He's the kind of guy who made it though university by knowing all his lessons by heart, without remembering much of the theory behind it. Brilliant at bringing up facts that are already known, certainly, but not at coming up with anything new. He should have aimed to become an engineer, not a researcher." A grin appeared on his face, "in fact, he has this strange theory about Orphans. He apparently believes they are beings from another dimension, who appear and go berserk whenever they can't find a HiME to link to. Can you believe that?"

Yuuki could only shrug while the scientist chuckled; it made as much sense as anything else to him. Still, even as he listened, his suspicion grew into steel-solid certainty.

-

He'd eat his badge if Tokiichi Konishi wasn't 'dr. Evil'.

-

-------------

-

_--Saturday, August 10th, 1996, 9:55 AM--_

-

"Because she's my partner," first class detective Kumaji replied, to Natsuki's surprise at the honesty in his voice, "and if you still want to kick her out of here, then I'll have you arrested for obstruction of justice. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, right?"

"Obstruct—Why I ne—I'm—Do you know who I—"

"Kuga." Kumaji cut through the man's irate stammering, and she straightened out in response. "Your Child is some kind of wolf, isn't it?"

Huh? "Ah… ye—I mean, yes sir," she replied, feeling mental rust screech at the rarely used politeness she'd just spoken with.

"Does it have a good sense of smell?"

Huh? Where was he going with that? "Ah… yes." To be honest, she didn't know, but there was something inside her that told her that yes, Durhan did. Like a lot of what she knew about him, it seemed like she just _knew _it.

"Summon it. I need its nose."

"Why—er… I mean, yes sir," better not ask questions, she told herself. Totally confused, Natsuki nonetheless did what she was told. She felt within herself for the power she had only used once before, and found it eager to emerge again. It flooded through her veins like liquid ice without becoming uncomfortable; to the contrary, she found, as summoning the single pistol she could carry in both hands felt a bit like being caressed by a soothing, cool wind in scorching sunlight, or drinking something cold during a summer draught.

It felt… nice. She had never noticed that before.

She hadn't had _time_ to notice it before.

Deeper yet, though, she sought him, her confident, her love, her protector, her Child. And she found him, feeling his loving touch reply to hers. She opened her mouth to speak his name, but froze as fear crossed through her mind, along with memories of the _last_ time he'd been summoned.

"_Your Child only wants to protect you. He loves you more than anything else, and will do anything for you. Never be scared of him; he will sense it and won't realize that he's the one scaring you if there's anything he finds remotely threatening around—especially people."_

Steeling herself, Natsuki drew a deep breath and called him forth.

"**DURHAN!"**

And in an explosion of ice, he was there, metal claws clicking against the wooden floor. She shuddered a bit at the strangeness of his inhuman mind connecting to hers, of his alien thoughts crossing into hers but only for a second, for he pulled away as soon as he felt her discomfort.

An indescribable feeling flowed through the strange link, something so utterly foreign that she nearly pushed it away in disgust and fear. But she didn't, focusing on it instead. It felt… protective. Loving.

Dangerous.

It came once more, this time with a sense of urgency, and only then did she notice her eyes were still closed. She opened them and saw the way her Child was staring at the two adults looking her way, as if he was just waiting for one of them to move before ripping them to pieces; Kumaji, she noticed, had discretely pulled out the remote, and had a thumb hovering one of the buttons.

It came to her then. He thought they were a threat to her!

"Durhan, stop!"

Her Child turned his chromed head towards her, and although no eyes were visible in the sunken holes in his face, she knew he was looking at her. Another alien feeling flowed through her; amidst the strange inhuman feelings, she picked up something that felt like… confusion? Puzzlement?

Was it his way of asking a question?

"Got control over it yet, Kuga?" Kumaji growled.

"Ah… yes," she replied, sending a 'calm down!' down her link. Another puzzled reply came to her; he was apparently just as confused by her as she was by him.

"Well then, tell him to look for this smell," he said, pulling out a sealed plastic bag from his pocket. Inside it was a bundled up T-shirt, pink and white. The coffee shop's owner immediately erupted.

"That again? How many people do you think talk in front of this place? Do you really thing even a freak's monster can find a trail like that?"

While they talked, Natsuki did her best to focus on how to obey Kumaji. Durhan didn't seem to be able to understand her commands, so how could she go and ask him something as complicated as "Smell this and search"? Would his sense of smell be good enough to search in the Roppongi crowd, especially if it wasn't fresh? She hoped so; her immediate future depended on it!

Durhan seemed to sense her worry and urgency, and even if he didn't understand why, he sent something down their link, something that felt like a strange inner warmth, like how she had felt that one time Fumi-baba had gotten through her defenses and hugged her.

He was… comforting her?

But then, if he could do that…

She closed her eyes and focused on what he was making her feel. She took that love and comfort, and sent it back his way. Her reply was a surge of… happiness? Something that felt joyful, at least, and she felt her lips move in a smile on their own volition.

It took a few tries, but she managed to instruct Durhan on the meaning of "smell". "Search" was a bit harder, but it eventually worked out. All the while, Natsuki kept shooting glances at Kumaji, whose stony behavior didn't change at all, and at the coffee shop owner who kept alternating between looking nervous and shooting hateful glares at her and her Child.

"We're ready," she finally said. Kumaji only nodded and, after carefully kneeling in front of Durhan like one would a tamed lion, opened the bag under his nose.

'Smell, search,' she sent. A feeling she had come to realize was an acknowledgement floated from him, and she felt confident he knew what to do as he put his snout to the ground. An uncomfortable feeling came from him then, along with an overpowering smell of coffee, which felt strange indeed inside her own head.

'No wonder he wanted to use Durhan,' she thought, sending a wave of comfort at her Child, 'a normal dog would have never wanted to continue searching after smelling that.'

"Can it smell through the coffee?" Kumaji asked. Natsuki nodded.

"Barely, but can—" A wave of… joy? triumph? interrupted her words, as Durhan sniffed at one of the chairs at the bar. "I… I think he's got it."

Kumaji nodded and, for the first time since she'd met him, she saw him smile. The shop owner, on the other hand, was that of shock, which turned into consternation when Durhan started following the trail toward the back room. Natsuki blinked in confusion; why would the missing woman go over there? She'd disappeared in the streets, hadn't she? Why would…

The answer came to her then, and she felt like slapping herself for a second. It was obvious.

She'd gone to the bathroom.

But Durhan continued to follow the trail past the toilets, toward the stairs leading down. The stairs were dark and dusty, and the heat that was uncomfortable in the dining room became downright unbearable; it was like they led down to the gates of hell. The rumbling sound from before was much louder here, and she recognized it now as a gas heater going full force.

'Certain?' she asked Durhan. He replied with a very clear smell of sweat and vanilla, as a way of showing her that yes, the trail was easy to follow, and while he didn't pick up on it, there was another smell there, something that drew an instinctive shudder deep inside herself.

Fear?

"A-Allright, that's enough—An Orphan might—I'll complain about harassment, my cousin will—get that thing out of my store!" the store owner screeched.

Why, though? Why had the missing woman gone downstairs? Why had she been scared? Why was the owner only protesting about Durhan now?

Was he trying to stop them?

It clicked then, and Natsuki's eyes thinned into angry slits.

It wasn't a missing person case.

It was kidnapping.

She resisted the urge to glare at the store owner, whose nervousness she could now tell was fear at being found out. Something, some kind of instinct, was telling her his most obvious reaction would be to run away, and thus what she _should_ do was to move and block his way. She was more powerful than he was, but he was physically stronger, and would be able to shove her aside easily enough. The only way she could stop him, therefore, was to get him from a distance.

A plan drew itself in her mind, basic and simple. She theatrically slapped her hands over her pants pockets and opened her mouth in a wide "o".

"I forgot…" whoops, first snag, "…er, something in my shirt!" Right, maybe this wasn't going so well.

"Can it wait?" Kumaji growled. She _knew_ he was seeing right through her, though.

"Uh…" ok, think Natsuki, think! "I… uh… someone might steal it!" Real smooth.

"Hmph. Well, we don't need you anymore, so long as your Child doesn't go insane when you're gone," Kumaji replied, ignoring the way the store owner squeaked in fear. "Go get it."

"O-Officer?!"

"Thanks. Durhan, keep following the trail, and try not to bust the building down," she said, while telling him 'search' with a reassuring mental pat.

"Gwah?!"

"I'll be right back!"

"W-W…" she ignored him and left up the stairs.

To her surprise, as soon as he was out of her sight, Durhan opened up his side of the connection to let her in on what he was seeing and understanding. As she headed to the front of the store to wait for the panicking man, who was no doubt only staying with Kumaji in vain hopes that Durhan wouldn't find his victim after all, she had the most unsettling feeling of sensing her partner following 'her', a few feet behind her metal 'tail', of hearing sounds so low and high that her brain hurt trying to understand them, and at smelling a ground that suddenly revealed a lot more than dust.

Durhan finally stopped in front of a door that stunk strongly of terror and pain. Natsuki was forced to swallow her own bile as her body reacted to it. Kumaji spoke; she heard his voice, knew he said syllables, but through Durhan's inhuman perceptions she was completely unable to understand what he said. The owner spoke again, nervously, apologetically, and the smell of fear that surrounded him only grew stronger. Kumaji spoke again, and the fear grew into outright terror.

Then Kumaji stepped back, braced himself and tried to force through the door. Once, twice, three times did his large bulk impact against it, and every time the door shuddered a little more. Natsuki was impressed; she could feel each hit on the soles of her shoes.

'Assistance?' the message came from Durhan, as a mental picture of himself ramming his cannons into the door. She nodded.

'Don't scare Kumaji,' she tried to send, but his confusion told her she'd been too precise. She simplified with a mental picture of gently moving her partner aside and helping, which he understood and complied. Kumaji looked uncertain, but moved aside anyway, and Durhan got ready to attack the door.

'Chrome Cartridge?' he asked. Something told her this was a _bad_ idea.

'NO!' she replied, with probably too much strength; the ashamed apology he sent in return made her feel a bit guilty. 'Gently,' she ordered.

He understood, to her surprise, and after taking a few steps back, he carefully aimed his right cannon at the door handle and _leapt_ forward—

The door gave way with a deafening _crack_, and the rumbling sound of the gas heater going at full power suddenly seemed to grow tenfold. The room beyond was in complete darkness, but Durhan's inhuman eyes adapted to it faster than Natsuki's brain could catch up and—

…and suddenly, she was standing in front of the door, fists tightly clenched around her guns as a wave of rage from her Child crashed through her whole body. Durhan had, for some reason, cut off the link. And, down the hallway in front of her, the sound of someone running frantically flew to her ears. Within a few seconds, the panicked store owner erupted from the stairs and ran straight toward the door. Unfortunately for him, she had been ready.

_**-Pshling, pshling!-**_

Two freezing cold concussion bolts impacted against his kneecaps, and with a shrill yelp, he collapsed, just as Durhan came up behind him. The face the man made when Durhan's metallic paw thumped on the floor right next to his head had been priceless. Kumaji had later came up himself, arrested the man without as much as a glance at Durhan, and told her to use the radio.

"Report a 10-23-B with severe dehydration, and that we need an ambulance," he told her. She gave as good as salute as she could in her excited state, and obeyed with probably too much joy in her voice; she had later found out what a code 83-B entailed, and what she had read in that regulation file she had managed to sneak past the watchful eyes of the station's adults made her wish she had fired quite a bit higher than the man's kneecaps.

Code 10-23-B: illegal detainment with sexual assault.

Fortunately, the victim recovered, although with some help. She didn't have to give her testimony; although the man had diplomatic immunity (from good connections and having a cousin in the American embassy), it did nothing to protect him against his own guilt-ridden confession.

Even now, three years later, she was still not sure whether the "bit higher" was somewhere to make sure he would never be able to do anything like that ever again, or to make sure he would never be able to do anything ever again. She would never forget this case, however. Nor would she ever forget the words Kumaji told her, as soon as he closed the door behind him with the criminal still shuddering on the back seat.

"Good job, Princess."

Of course, then he scolded her for breaking the rules, but she did her best to forget that part. The next morning, she ended up with him again. And the next. And the next.

-

-------------

-

_--Wednesday, May 3__rd__, 1999, 12:03 AM--_

"_10-4, Tanuki. Sending everything to the research bunnies, they should have something good later today. HQ out." _

"10-4," he replied with a sigh at the nickname, and at his partner pouting childishly on the passenger seat. What, had she wanted to come after all? Psh, she was well on her way to be a perfectly normal woman; impossible to understand at her age, he trembled to know what she'd be like in a few years. If she grew that old without her future partner (who would certainly _not_ be him) hitting the red button out of sheer annoyance. He sat down on his seat and closed the door, happy to finally be out of that facility, then revved up the engine. Just as he was about to shift to reverse, Natsuki spoke.

"So?" she asked coldly. He blinked and looked at her in confusion. Was she asking how it had been in there?

With a shrug, he replied, "you'd have been bored."

And her frown turned into a furious glare.

"Of course, and I wasn't bored in here, right?"

She was angry about that? Boy, she really _was_ a kid, wasn't she…

"Look, sorry I didn't leave you the radio or someth—" "SHUT UP!"

Whoa. Ok, that was a bit too extreme to be only about boredom. Ok, back up. Why was she—

He didn't have time to complete that thought; she spoke again. "You were just waiting for that, weren't you?!"

"Waiting for what?"

"For a chance to shove me off! That's all I am to you, right? An annoying little brat who's in your way, useless at anything except killing Orphans!" Well, since she put it that way…

Something about his thoughts must have shown up on his face, because her face twisted in an enraged snarl. "Well you can just _FUCK OFF_. Fight them on your own and get yourself killed, see if I care!"

And she shoved the door open with all the strength in her small arm, a gun appearing in her other hand as she did.

"_DURHAN!" _

"Now wait a—" There was an explosion of ice, and the metal wolf was there, glaring angrily at him. Rapidly, Yuuki reached in his pocket.

…nothing.

"Looking for this, I bet," she said, with her collar's remote in her free hand, "You left it on the dashboard, dumbass."

She gave a disgusted sniff and climbed on Durhan's back. Without so much as a nod from her, the wolf's legs vanished and were replaced with propellers, and the little girl sped off faster than he could ever hope to catch up, crossing over the facility's walls before vanishing between the roofs of Meguro. Tanaka Yuuki was left alone in the parking lot, feeling like he had just screwed up something fierce, with a single thought in his mind.

-

The chief was going to _kill_ him for this.

-

-

**Akuma-sama's notes:**

Sorry about the wait; a combination of the chapter's length, of my muses aggressively making me write other stories, general lack of interest in writing, college and gaming addiction (playing as well as designing) resulted in how long you waited to get this thing.

One year… you guys probably thought I had given up or died. Well I'm not dead! BWAH!

"Put the flame on my daughters". Think about it for a second if you haven't got it already, and you'll know why Natsuki would have been quite pissed to hear it.


	7. Chapter 6: Veridian

--

To say the Chief had been unhappy with him was a bit like saying that the sun is a little warm, or that space is a little bigger than Earth. Yuuki's first impression of her had been that of a tiger on the prowl, and it had been grossly inaccurate; the Chief Akitori who had welcomed him back in the station with all the warmth of a Siberian winter had a lot more in common with a rampaging Tyrannosaurus with a bad toothache, or with a volcano in the middle of an explosive eruption. And as much as he hated to admit it, he deserved to get buried under her pyroclastic flow.

He had screwed up. Big time.

"So let me get this straight," she was saying. "First, you let some two-bit corp with a big head trample all over us, the Japanese Police Forces, and kick your partner out of the facility you were both charged with investigating _together_ on motives that scream of discrimination. Second, you leave her, a thirteen years old girl we are responsible for, HiME or not, unguarded for about two hours, in a highly classified area, regardless of what damage she could have done to the facility or to herself, or what sensitive information she could have seen."

She took a breath before continuing, "_Third_, you left her there **with the fucking remote**, just to be sure that you'd have no control over her if she went wild, and most importantly **fourth**, you let your partnership degenerate to the point where she'd rather _blatantly_ violate some of the most important parts of the Public Protection Laws than stay with you."

Having made a list of his sins, she spent the next moments drilling holes through his head with the glare of her laser eyes. "I highly doubt it, but I hope for your own sake you have a good reason for this, and it better be the kind of stuff they make action movies out of."

He remained silent, though he was fuming inwardly. Why was it all put on _his_ back? Kuga was the one with the super powers, right? How was he supposed to stop her, especially after he—stupidly, he had to admit—let her take the remote? What was he supposed to do, grab on her Child's tail and get his head chopped off?

"…I see you don't." the Chief said with finality in her voice. Yuuki tried to swallow his heart back down; it didn't work very well. "Had anyone else screwed up as badly as you just did, Tanuki, I'd have either kicked them out of the force with a note of incompetence, or sent them back to the academy regardless of their age. However, I don't exactly have a suitable replacement at hand, and I can see Princess isn't exactly being cooperative in this, even _if_ the alternative is to have her bothering everyone in administration again. And I know how intolerable she can make herself be when she tries."

It took everything Yuuki had to resist nodding in agreement, something that _would_ have had him kicked out of the force. Oh, how little a thread his job was holding on right now… and all because of _her_.

"Still, she is thirteen. You are twenty-four. Between the two of you, I expect _you_ to be the responsible one—"

"Hold on, how was I—"

"How were you supposed to know she would react badly to being treated like a parasite?" she interrupted with a voice like liquid hydrogen. "Geez, I don't know, why don't you fucking _tell_ me?"

There was another awkward pause in which both of them collected themselves, before the fierce captain spoke again. "After tomorrow, I want to see the two of you acting like a proper team, or I'm stuffing you so far back down the hole you crawled out of that by the time you finish falling, the sky will be glittery purple and cars will run on rainbows. And yes, I will have _words_ with her. She's lucky we need her right now or I'd have locked her up to cool her head a bit.

"You're dismissed for today, Tanuki. Go home, and don't you _dare_ disappoint me like that again."

That had been yesterday evening, and as his squad car slowed to a stop in front of the Himeno Orphanage, Yuuki reflected on the Chief's words. Get along with her? Become partners in one day? He was doomed. So doomed, in fact, that the devil would probably have to take pity on him and offer him a consolation candy.

He exited the car and closed the door, then moved to walk on the path that led up to the Orphanage's entrance.

"Mister officer, may Fumi-_obaahan_ and I take a bit of your time?"

The sudden interjection made him jump. Behind the police car, dressed in a simple brown and red yukata, stood Fujino Shizuru with a serene, unassuming and unreadable smile on her face. It took a few seconds for Yuuki's brain to catch up.

"Ah? Ah—I mean… sure, I guess…"

How had she gotten there? He could have sworn the street had been empty…

Before he knew it, he was inside, sitting in the Himeno living room, and Fujino—…? Shizuru-san? He really wasn't sure what to call her, except '_ojousama'_, but he had the feeling it wouldn't be taken well by the young teen—was putting a steaming cup of green tea in his hands. The room was large and colored mostly in brown, with the exception of a rich red carpet and various framed pictures, most of them, evidently so from the… artistic talent displayed there, drawn by younger tenants. On the far wall at his right was an unlit fireplace sealed behind a glass, in front of which an oak table stood, framed by a pair of dark red sofas. Yuuki himself sat on one of them, whereas a voluptuous woman stood on the other, directly in front of him.

It took him a fraction of second to realize the smiling woman was the one his partner referred as "Fumi-baachan". The woman's chin-length pink hair bounced with curls, and alongside the matronly dress she was wearing complete with an apron, and the gentle green eyes on her rounded face, everything about her spoke of a caring and kind woman who was perfectly happy with the way things were now.

Well, almost; something in her eyes led him to guess Natsuki had already told her side of the story, no doubt completely biased. He resisted the urge to stand up and defend himself, as any truthful defense he could offer wouldn't have worked to his advantage in front of this jury.

"Ookini," he said to… Shizuru-san, who gave him a polite nod in answer and turned toward Fumi-san, who already had her own cup.

"I will fetch Natsuki," she said.

Fumi-san nodded. "Take your time."

The teenage girl (was she really?) nodded once more, and left, leaving them alone. Fumi-san quietly took a sip of her tea, and frowned a bit.

"Shizuru-chan always makes it a bit too sour. Still, she's getting better," the matron mused with a fond smile at the door before turning her eyes towards Yuuki. "_Hajimemashite3_, my name is Himeno Fumi, and I am the owner and caretaker of this orphanage."

"Ah… Tanaka Yuuki," he replied, then with a smile, "but you already knew that."

"Yes, I did." She was still smiling, but there was something in her voice that made his smile vanish. "As much as I'd love to talk and get to know Natsuki's new partner, I assume you do not have a lot of time in your hands, considering what you are chasing—and Akane-san already knows Natsuki tells me everything," she added at the surprise on his face.

'Akane-san', huh? Sounds like those two are pretty close, he mused while sipping his tea—it tasted fine to him—before sighing.

"You could say that. There's a meeting first thing when we get back to central, and I'd be wasting everyone's time if I didn't show up in time."

"If you _and Natsuki_ did not appear in time, am I correct?" there was a warning note in her voice, and Yuuki winced inwardly.

At his nod, she spoke again on a tone he could only compare to the voice of a mother scolding a naughty child. "Detective Tanaka, this orphanage serves as a home for ten girls, between the ages of eight and seventeen. Each of these girls knows and cares for the others like sisters, and I care about them like I was their mother. And Natsuki is particularly precious to us all.

"When she came here, she was like a scared hedgehog, ready to stab back at the smallest word, rebelling against anything and everything in the world, claiming she hated it here and that she didn't care about or needed anyone else. More than once, things degenerated into shouting, and even blows. I even had to use my own remote once to get her under control, as much as I regret it today," the woman smiled sadly. "But I love her. We all do, and that's why she became as calm as she is today—do not give me that look; compared to how she used to be, she is a real angel now," she admonished with an unvoiced chuckle. "She only needed to be cared for and loved, something she'd never felt in her life before."

Yuuki blinked, and his itching curiosity needed to know. "She was abused?"

The woman shook her head. "Her past is her own to tell. Just know this: Natsuki does not like being put aside. No one would. The way you treated her yesterday hurt her a lot more than she'll admit, so you can expect her to be especially disagreeable today. There is unfortunately very little I can do about that, and most of it I've already done. Scolding her more would be counter-productive. And—"

"_Obaahan_? Natsuki is getting ready," Shizuru's voice startled them both as the kyotoite girl came back. The pink-haired matron nodded.

"Well then… I guess I let myself get carried away, and I apologize, but Natsuki has quite a bit to lose in this, you see. I'm surprised Akane-san did not ask you to arrest her after what she did yesterday—" the matronly woman froze, then with a little bit of nervousness, asked, "she… did not, did she?"

Yuuki shook his head, and she sighed in relief.

"Good. She is still afraid of the dark, and I don't want to think of what would happen to her if—oh, where did…" she patted the pocket of her apron, before sighing and giving him an apologetic smile. "I must have left that blasted thing in the kitchen. I'm always removing things from in there and putting them everywhere else… I'll be right back."

Yuuki nodded, and Fumi went to the door. She opened it, startling the two young purple-haired girls who'd evidently been eavesdropping, then while gently chiding them, she left and closed the door, leaving him alone with the red-eyed teenage girl.

"She seems very nice," he told her, and she nodded.

"Yes. Fumi-_obaahan_ is a very kind woman, and we're all very grateful for the childhood she's giving us so generously." The unnaturally mature girl sat on the same seat the woman had just vacated. "This is less an orphanage than a foster home, despite the name, and she has become something of a mother to us. And accordingly, many of us, myself included, have come to see each other as sisters of fate in this strange family… which brings me to my point."

She looked right into his eyes, and Yuuki felt something primal in him answer as he stared back into those crimson orbs, like what was in front of him was not a girl ten years younger than he, but a deadly, _dangerous_ creature that could strike him down in an instant, like a snake on a mouse, should she only be inclined to do so.

"Fumi-_obaahan_ was not lying when she said Natsuki has a lot to lose. While I do not approve of her actions yesterday, I can understand them, probably better than anyone else here. And I have little doubt that, collar or not, rules or not, if Natsuki is pushed to that point again, she will repeat herself. And if she does, then… unfortunate things might happen."

Her hands flexed,

_-Fssshs__**KLISH**__—_

…and Yuuki discovered first hand that Fujino Shizuru was a HiME when the flawless blade of her element, a naginata tinted with the same dark red as blood, tickled the skin of his next like a teasing, deadly feather.

"To her and… to quite a few people, probably," she finished matter-of-factly. He was certain she was making no exaggeration and decided, at that point, that this slip of a girl who was probably less than half his weight was the single most dangerous thing he had ever faced in his life.

-click-

The turning of its handle made them both turn toward the door, where Fumi-san entered, Natsuki following grudgingly. The pink-haired woman addressed them both a smile; the naginata was, of course, gone.

"Then, if you'll excuse me," Fujino declared, her voice airy like nothing had happened, "I have other affairs to attend to. _Gokigenyou_, mister Officer, Natsuki." And she walked out, giving Fumi-san a nod and the bluette a fond smile as she left. By all means, he should have stopped her, or told Fumi-san about the threat he had just received, but the memory of those mesmerizing crimson eyes staring into his like the glare of a snake turned his objection into an undignified croak.

Somehow, this day had become one that would not only decide the path of his career for the rest of his life, but also apparently how much longer his life would last; after all, no amount of concrete and steel could stop a HiME on a rampage. And it all depended on him getting along with that little brat of a girl he'd been assigned to, who was glaring at him like he was the most revolting thing on this side of the world.

He had the feeling that, if the Chief was the judge and Fumi-san the jury, then Fujino-san was the executioner, and would only do her grisly task with far too much glee.

Screw doomed; once those three were through with his soul, even the devil wouldn't want it!

-

--

**My**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**-**

**Disclaimer: **Roses are red, violets are blue. In soviet Japan, Sunrise owns you.

**-**

**Chapter 6: Viridian**

--

-

"Tokiichi Konishi. Born at Tadashi hospital 29 years ago, transferred twice in grade school, then once more during middle school because of his rather nomadic parents. Above average general grades with a weakness in maths. Entered Tokodai on the first try, passed with flying colors everywhere except maths. His teachers' evaluations noted him as who does just fine if pointed in the right direction, but who jumps to conclusions and has trouble adapting if something unexpected happens."

"Like his partners in crime deciding to dress up like carnival clowns," the Chief said.

Yuuki resisted the wince the Chief's voice threatened to cause in him, despite her cutting words not being aimed at him this time. The presences of Natsuki, Eriko and himself were to be expected, as was that of Kumaji seeing as their case was the biggest thing going on for the moment as far as he knew. Chief Akitori, however, had walked in the room while the busty researcher prepared the computer that was now sending a picture of the man in question at the screen. No one had dared comment about it.

Tokiichi Konishi – and boy was his name a mouthful, Yuuki mused – was a bit hard to describe, as he seemed to have very few features to distinguish him from anyone else; short bowl-cut black hair, beady black eyes, featureless nose, typical jaw structure, normal teeth… they would probably have had a bad time identifying him if he'd been the guy wearing the monocle and scrappy top hat.

Eriko continued, "His law record is mostly clear, except for getting arrested once over an altercation that went badly, with a certain Professor Araki from Tokodai a year after his graduation; apparently the student didn't appreciate his teacher rejecting his theory out of hand and calling it, quote, 'a beautiful piece of pseudo-science that would be well received by mystics'. Interesting fact, the theory in question had to do with Orphans—"

"Coming from another dimension, right, Morigawa-sensei told me about it," Yuuki interrupted. Eriko nodded.

"Right. Also interestingly, he was hired by GlearCorp almost immediately after being released from police custody, and from there on his records become spotty. Even though I couldn't find it, it's obvious his income suddenly increased. About six months after starting to work, he apparently bought himself a house—"

"Which we've already searched," Kumaji put in. "His neighbors told us he's been missing for 7 days now, but they thought he'd only been gone fishing."

"Seven days…" that would have been last Friday, the same day the Tetsuo brothers had vanished. "I see. Goes fishing often then?"

Eriko nodded. "There are various expenses listed on his credit card that can be explained if he went fishing a lot; bait, rations, and especially this boat," she hit a key on the keyboard in front of her, and Tokiichi's image was replaced by that of a small yatch. "Apparently, he goes off about twice a year, and the amount spent in food agrees with a length of approximately one week every time."

"I see. Is there a warehouse to his name then?"

"Apparently he stored his boat in a warehouse for rent near the coast just a bit south of the Rainbow Bridge." She gave them the address and he noted it down. "The rent isn't cheap, though. Makes me wonder exactly how much he made every week."

"No income tax records?"

"Glearcorp handled those for him," Eriko replied sourly, "which of course means they're top secret, approved by the government. I'd need Chief Akitori's help to get it…"

"…and it's not important enough for me to ask for more favors," the woman cut in.

Yuuki nodded, focusing his mind back on the case. The next step seemed obvious, and had everything to do with the address in his pocket; if they had picked up Tokiichi's boat, it meant their hideout had to be either at sea, or in a warehouse close to the sea, which would explain why their attacks seemed to be limited to Minato so far. No doubt they didn't want to use too much fuel in their car.

And about that…

"Have there been any sightings of their car?"

The police system of Tokyo was made of two sections with very different tasks. The ward HQ served as the first section, charged with conducting investigations, answering emergencies and patrolling the faster lanes to enforce traffic laws. Scattered all over the city was the second section, the police boxes ("Koban"), employed small groups of field grunts who were charged with knowing everyone in their area, reporting problems, holding suspects and helping HQ officers in their work with the information they had.

As a result, you were never more than two or three streets away from police officers anywhere in the city. And since each of them had the description and plate number of the car they were looking for, _and_ since the same information had been leaked to the public, it was impossible for them not to have been spotted a few times so far, something that could possibly tell him where they usually hung around.

"Twice, both times quite literally in the middle of everything, so we can't get anything from those."

"Only twice?!" Yuuki repeated disbelievingly. "What are the koban'ers doing?"

"Interestingly," Eriko added, ignoring his question, "both times were flagged by young women whose names were found in the purple list."

"HiMEs." Natsuki clarified.

"I know what the purple list is, thank you," Yuuki cut in reflexively, then cursed himself at the glare she sent him. He was supposed to learn to get along with her today, damnit!

Still, the implications of that were sobering. Their quarry had been on the run in crowded Tokyo for seven days now, and being actively sought after for a little more than half that time. By all means, they should have been caught already, or seen at least more than twice. That only HiMEs signaled their car's presence meant… what exactly? That it was only visible to HiMEs? But they'd all seen in plain as day on the Murasaki's cameras, hadn't they?

"Maybe their car is like the star?" Natsuki's voice cut into his thoughts. He noticed, with mild irritation, that her question had been aimed at Kumaji, who sent it back to him with a single look.

He shook his head. "The star doesn't show up on video cameras."

"Uh? Oh. Right."

"It might be related, though," the Chief noted with a nod at Eriko, who understood the unspoken order and saluted. "Then, Tanuki, what do you plan to do?"

The question was a test, he knew it. It had less to do with the case than with his partner, and while he had some kind of plan for the first, the second one remained as mysterious to him as the brat's powers.

"First I want to take a look at that warehouse, to see if he left anything behind before going on that 'fishing trip', then… we'll see," he replied, the last bit being said with a glance at the scowling bluette. The Chief seemed satisfied with that.

"Then do it. Kuga, I need to have a word with you. The rest of you move out."

Left unspoken with anything but a deadly glare was a threat of what would happen to him if he tried to leave without his partner. He saluted with a hard swallow.

"And while she's talking to her, I'll be talking to you," Kumaji said. The tone of his voice clearly told him it would not be a pleasant conversation.

"Ah… yes sir."

Was it too late to write his will yet?

-

--

-

"So I heard you screwed up."

Kumaji's words weren't an accusation, nor were they a question. As he and Yuuki shut themselves in the privacy of the ever-deserted break room on the second floor, the kansai officer reluctantly nodded to the plainly exposed fact his superior told him.

The Chief had been angry at him because he'd failed in his duty, because he'd unintentionally—or was it?—sabotaged a partnership she'd believed in, or at least put her hopes on, and because he'd screwed up something spectacular. Kumaji would be angry at him for the same reasons, with the added factor of his own erstwhile partnership with the young girl.

That being said, he knew her probably more than anyone else in the station. If anyone could help Yuuki with his problem, it was him.

"I did," Yuuki replied. The bear-like man didn't say anything, preferring to walk over to the coffee machine with his cup ("Drinks are on me," declared the grinning St-Bernard on it).

"And I'm guessing Akane is giving you one last chance? She means that, you know. "_Last_"."

Yuuki sighed loudly and sat on his chair. "I knew that. I just wish I had _some_ idea of how to start."

It wasn't like a relationship had a reset button, unfortunately. The little brat honestly annoyed him with her constant little jabs, her uppity attitude whenever she knew something he didn't—which was unfortunately frequent, since he'd never even seen an Orphan before last Sunday, and had never known a HiME more than by name, and she seemed to be a treasure trove of information about them—and her general attitude, and the fact that she was mostly useless as a detective's partner… damnit, couldn't she have been given to a grunt instead?

Kumaji's continuing silence cut into his thoughts, and he looked up. The bear-like officer was shooting him a look that reminded him of his forensics teacher whenever he'd asked a particularly stupid question.

"If you can't figure it out, then maybe Akane was wrong about you. I'm guessing you already know, but either you can't be bothered to do it, or you don't think you can."

Now what the hell was he talking about… before he could ask, though, the captain had moved past him toward the door.

"I won't pretend to having gone through the same problems as you did with her, I didn't. Your situation's probably as much our fault as yours and Princess', but there's a reason Akane picked you and not some random Koban'er from the city for this spot."

"And what was the reason?" he asked sourly.

Kumaji made a grunt. "What's in a good team?"

And before Yuuki could even think of a reply, Kumaji left.

-

--

-

What _was_ in a team?

"People who got along," was the first thing that jumped to his mind, and continued to do so as he walked down the stairs to reach the lobby. The Chief's voice had been dimly audible through the insulated door of her office, proving that she still wasn't done with the brat, letting him know he still had to wait. Problem was, he couldn't see how that answer applied to him and his partner, as it seemed to describe the exact opposite of their relationship.

Back in Misato-cho, he'd been one of the dozen-or-so officers (excluding the double-handful of koban'ers) in a small town of four thousand. Because of how far the force had been stretched by its load, having a partner had been unthinkable, not after he'd been shown the ropes of detective work by the captain. And while he'd never been able to have one before now, he'd always had a mental picture of the ideal partner for himself: A strong, smart and especially beautiful woman, preferably available and interested as well.

He was far from oblivious to his faults, but that particular fault wasn't one he was inclined to suppress.

Even if his partner had been a man, he would have been fine with it; though there wouldn't have been any romance involved (hopefully, at least! He had nothing against _those_ kinds of people, but that boat wasn't for him), he wouldn't have turned out the potential friendship. But his partner hadn't been a man, and wasn't a woman yet. She was a little kid, who, in his opinion, should have been at home studying for school or playing with her little kid friends, and not here playing police officer and stealing his dreamed of partner's place.

"Yes… no, I can handle it. Don't you worry about me, it can' be good for the baby… yes. Yes, I'll… no…"

The one-sided and apparently difficult conversation somehow made its way through the treacherous maze of his thoughts. It was Ishigami, sitting at one of the many cubicles that surrounded the lobby. The man had removed his square-rimmed glasses and his tired body language indicated that he'd only marginally been telling the truth to whoever was on the other side of the line.

"Hm… yes, I… hm… hm. Don't worry, we'll be fine. It's Kumaji, you know, and I'm no slouch mys… what do you mean, you're relieved suddenly—oi! … …yeah, take care of yourself. Later."

And he hung up, releasing a weary sigh immediately after.

"Girlfriend?" Yuuki asked with a grin. The pale-haired man startled and would have had to pick his glasses up from the ground had his lap not been in the way.

"Ah, Tanaka… Partner, actually," Ishigami replied, putting the lenses back on his nose.

In the midst of mentally celebrating at having someone _finally_ use his real name, his mind collided on one detail.

"Partner? But aren't you a grunt?"

"Field Officer, thank you very much!" Ishigami corrected with mock outrage, "and the station assigns us smarter Officers to work alongside detectives; I'm the arm to her brain and her sounding board, really… well, usually. Princess is technically in the same position as me."

Ishigami's conversation replayed itself in Yuuki's mind.

"She's pregnant?" he guessed. Ishigami nodded.

"Six months through and shining like the sun. That is, when she isn't beating up her husband." The pair shared a conspiratorial grin at the mixed fortune of said husband. "So until she comes back, I'm jumping around, replacing people, or doing desk work."

"Ergh."

"Yes, well I think I'd much prefer doing desk work than working on the case Kumaji-_taichou_ and I are stuck on."

Curiosity burning, Yuuki asked, "What kind of case?"

"Disappearances. High-handed serial kidnappings, rather. You might have heard about it on the news, the vanished kids…" Yuuki made a face and Ishigami nodded. "Exactly. And since Kumaji-_taichou_ is always busy looking over the details, guess who has to go and comfort the parents?"

Ishigami nodded again when Yuuki winced in sympathy.

"How many disappearances so far?"

"Four with yesterday's twins—and believe me, I am _not_ looking forward to trying to calm their parents down, one at a time was bad enough. There's nothing _officially_ linking the cases together, and the victims don't exactly have anything in common either, except all of them being girls aged between eleven and thirteen. But with the timing and the MO…"

"No coincidences in this line of work, gotcha. No ransom note, I bet? Maybe it's a pervert?"

A small smile appeared on Ishigami's face. "Funny, that's exactly what Princess said… and about that, is it true that she sent Durhan after you?"

"What? No she didn't!" Now just what kind of rumors were spreading around?

"Rats. I knew believing the radio bunnies was a bad idea," he said in a tone that told exactly how little the lieutenant had believed said stories to begin with. "So, what happened?"

To be honest, Yuuki really didn't feel like telling his mistake to every curious pair of ears who bothered to ask. This pair of ears, however, belonged to someone who knew how to handle the pint-sized gunslinger he'd been straddled with.

"I… …can I ask you a question?" Ok, so he avoided telling it completely. At Ishigami's nod, he continued, "how do you get along with her so well?"

"Well," the other man noised, raising his square-rimmed glasses back up on his nose, "I could tell you that first contact was everything in my case, but I don't think it would help you much, would it."

Yuuki made a face. Running around the station in his underwear while she tried to shoot his balls off wasn't exactly what he'd call a good first impression.

"Hm… How do I do it…? Well, think of it this way: she's a scary little spitfire with the firepower of a tank platoon, but she's still a little girl, so you should treat her like one… well, that's what I do, I guess."

"Tried that, didn't work." He wasn't, of course, considering the fact that he had no idea how to handle a little girl.

"Then, I'm afraid I can't really help you. She hasn't had an easy time, our little Princess. Deep-down inside, she's a very sweet girl, she just has more defenses around her than a battleship," Ishigami said apologetically, then glanced at his watch. "And I'm afraid that's all the time I have. Any more than that and the old bear'll got on my case."

"Hn… good luck."

"Same to you," Ishigami returned with a suffering smile.

-

--

-

"Still in uniform, I see," was the first thing the damn bra—Natsuki-san, the Minato Ward Police's Angel of Mercy, said as she hoisted herself on the patrol car's seat and shut the door behind her. And, cur—bless her tender mercies, she actually sounded disappointed.

Ok, screw that. Fumi-san had apparently not lied when she said she'd be insufferable. He could already feel the headache. Still, he took a breath, told himself to calm down, and with steely self-control, managed to focus on what he had to do today.

Step one, visit the warehouse for some kind of hint, like a map of their new hiding spot (what the hell, they _were _idiots) or something.

Step two, report what he'd find at the warehouse.

Step three, find a way to get along with the brat before the day ends.

Step four, shamefully report his failure to complete step three.

Step five, run for his balls.

It sounded like a plan. A bad one, certainly, but it was rational and feasible.

Well, first things first.

-

--

-

The warehouse had turned out to be a bust with a minor confirmation. No, they hadn't found the thieves, or any kind of clues, like a map indicating where their hiding spot was (apparently, they weren't that _big_ idiots). As Tokyo wasn't exactly the place with the most real estate available, it wasn't unusual for the people who had them to leave their larger and less practical vehicles, such as boats, in public parking areas. The warehouse had been one of those, and its owner had informed them, with understandable and ill-concealed anger, that their quarry had left only after climbing their way over the fences that protected the other costumers' areas and stealing their fuel.

What they had found, though, is what hadn't been there; the boat belonging to the Tokiichi Konishi was gone. Instead of being disappointed, Yuuki had been delighted, especially after the owner had given him every piece of information he had about the boat in question.

Another interesting tidbit was that the boat had vanished on May second, two days ago. Meaning, one day after the first attack, five whole days after their initial disappearance.

"A boat isn't like a car; you can't park it just anywhere, and it's not something you'd just want to leave somewhere unchecked," Yuuki explained while Natsuki pretended not to care. "Since this boat is built to go on high seas, there's practically no way they could take it up a canal, it would never have enough water there, so it _has_ to be somewhere along Minato's coastline, and they're most likely close to it."

"What if it's like their car?" she asked. "You wouldn't be able to see it then."

She had a point, but… "We can use a camera to go around that," he replied, to which she conceded.

"That's still a lot of ground to cover," Natsuki noted.

"It's a lot less than all of Minato."

A few minutes later, Hăng Lê the radio operator informed them that two helicopters had left the HQ to look for the boat. That left him with nothing to do but wait, something that he had to take as fate's cue toward him to get to the next step of the plan.

Damn.

The brat had been annoying for the first ten minutes, after which she had thankfully kept herself quiet, although it was obvious she was still sulking. Unfortunately, while he considered this a good thing by all measures, it also wasn't the best way to get her to work with him, or him to work with her, for that matter. As he drove semi-aimlessly around, he tried to figure out a way to get on the topic that wouldn't have the little girl get mad at him, and that would help him… what exactly?

To be honest, he had no idea what to do. He tried to get in her brain, to figure out what she wanted to say, but no matter what he tried he couldn't figure out what made her tick, why she was still sulking and being an obstacle to their partnership instead of doing her best to work with him despite what it meant for her.

His instincts, trained to figuring out the motives of rational or semi-rational criminals, collapsed in incomprehension in front of the simple wall that was a young teen's immaturity.

The streets were clear, thankfully enough, as Yuuki doubted his mind would be clear enough to register danger at the moment. After nearly missing a red light, though, he decided to stop risking it entirely, and with a sigh, he parked his car just a few blocks away from Tokyo Tower, at the northern edge of a small forested park. He ignored the look the little girl gave him and glanced around, hoping for inspiration.

In front of him, a salaryman walked toward the pond on the park's other end, alongside a woman wearing a standard secretary uniform with a very tight skirt, obviously trying not to be obvious at peeking at her swaying hips. Somewhere right, a family of tourists was arguing over a map; he thought he heard "Zojoji", but it could have been just another word of the language they were speaking… Spanish? Italian?

At his left, beyond a fenced barrier, a noisy bunch of grade school kids were playing a game of softball. For a moment, he thought about asking her if she wanted to join in, but reconsidered after guessing she would take being asked to play with a bunch of kids as an insult to her age. He glanced behind her, absentmindedly noting she had left the car and was staring at him with a mix of confusion and impatience, and spotted a grocery store, from where a pair of high school girls was leaving. He smiled a bit, maybe that would help.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but you'd better not be getting any ideas."

But damn she was insufferable, he mused as he absentmindedly tasted his strawberry Popsicle. Sitting on the bench as far as she could from him, Natsuki was glaring at him with her own in her hand, still wrapped (blueberry, because they hadn't carried mayonnaise). In front of them, one of the kids, a speedy little tyke with green hair and boy clothes hit the ball, resulting in a flurry of excited screeches as he barely reached first base safely. Natsuki unwrapped her Popsicle and started eating it, eyes on the game and small legs swinging in boredom.

Another kid took the bat, grinning like a… well, an overconfident kid, loudly challenging the pitcher.

He sighed again. The moment seemed good enough.

"They're not going to put you back with Kumaji, you know."

"I know that," she snapped back.

The ball flew. The kid swung and missed, among laughs and jeers from his friends.

Yuuki took bite. The ice was so cold it almost hurt, and a cold spring wind flew by with a few early Sakura petals; perhaps Popsicles hadn't been the best idea.

"It won't be Ishigami, either." Why, he couldn't figure out, though; the grunt with square-rimmed glasses was much better at handling her than he was, and he was hurting for a partner at the moment. Maybe they couldn't be a detective team then, but surely there were some heads that needed Kuga's muscles to be broken, right? And yes, so the chief didn't think he'd be able to press the button if she went nuts, but Kuga, immature and annoying as she was, didn't look like she was the crazy type.

Well, except as far as he was concerned.

The ball flew again. The kid didn't swing, then loudly protested when he got a second strike from the umpire. The kid at first base yelled a threat; his voice didn't have the timbre of a boy's—a girl, then.

"I know!" she barked, this time, then quietly continued, "If the chief put me with you, then there probably isn't anyone that's good enough in her mind. Winding up in admin again is gonna be hell, but I guess it can't be helped."

He frowned. This almost sounded like…

"Couldn't you just quit?"

Natsuki shot him a glare, the hottest she'd ever given him so far.

"Mind your own fucking business," she seethed slowly. Her jaws took a savage bite of flavored ice.

He flinched. Ok, that hadn't worked.

The kid swung and hit low. He started running. He didn't reach first base, but the tomboyish girl got to second safely. A little boy on the stands cheered at her. Two out.

Inwardly, Yuuki fumed. How was he supposed to know which landmines to avoid if he didn't know the first thing about her?

But that wasn't true, was it. She was thirteen years old, working with the police on the field. She had started at nine, if not earlier. What kind of kid is allowed to work in a dangerous environment like that? What kind of kid is allowed to work, _period_? It couldn't be her HiME powers, since she'd apparently started working in administration, where her talents could only have minimal use. So then why…

_She only needed to be cared for and loved, something she'd never felt in her life before._

_She hasn't had an easy time, our little Princess._

The collar. The orphanage. Her attitude. HiME.

Another kid came up to the bat. The ball was thrown. He swung. He missed.

Clues flew around his mind, tossed around like armed grenades, but as he tried to put them together, he only drew a blank. He could now, however, figure out why she'd exploded at his question.

He had just assumed the girl was related to someone in the station, or that she had been offering her services as a volunteer… but he'd been wrong.

She couldn't just quit. She was being forced into this.

Throw. Swing. Miss.

_Her past is her own to tell._

Maybe it was, but it was time for him to at least look up what part of it was easy to get. Past time, actually.

Throw. Swing. —**CRASH—**. Screams.

His mind derailed. His Popsicle fell to the ground. The concrete wall on the opposite side of the baseball field exploded in dust and metal shards. The kids started running, but the girl at second base, shocked by the explosion, tripped and fell instead. A monster stood out of the dust cloud, a headless roughly humanoid shape that stood about eight meters tall, with arms as wide as a bus and fists the size of wrecking balls. As the dust settled around it, Yuuki noticed it seemed to be glowing, and realized the Orphan was completely made of ice, and was reflecting the light of the sun.

Another attack. The thieves were nearby!

Then there was a blur at its feet. It moved quickly, too quickly, and dashed toward the kids—

"**DURHAN!**"

While he'd been standing there staring, Kuga had burst into movement; the leftover ice crystals that marked Durhan's appearance hadn't even vanished that the bluette was already on her Child's back, but it was obvious she wasn't going to make it in time; the blur, a second, almost imperceptible Orphan, would reach the fallen child far before she'd be in range to do anything about it. He saw it like in slow motion, the shadow bursting forward. Ten meters away. Six. Three.

A scream of terror from the child seeing death coming to her.

Then a blinding flash of light, and a screech that could not be produced by a human throat.

-

--

-

Natsuki stared in shock while Durhan skid to a stop next to the girl she had been certain she wouldn't be able to save. The flash of light had been a welcome surprise as it had thrown the speedy Orphan away from its near-victim. More unexpected, however, was that the younger girl was suddenly holding a pair of twin-bladed throwing daggers, and that, next to her, a large metal toad, roughly the size of a car, with blue tubes and crimson wheels arranged in a way reminiscent of an reversed ribbon, was staring at her. It took a few moments for Natsuki to realize what she'd just been witness to:

The crowning of a new HiME.

There was a powerful crash from the edge of the field. On its way to somewhere deeper in the park, the ice Orphan had smashed its way through the left-side wall. Natsuki was pulled out from her stupor, but unfortunately so was the speedy Orphan. With an unnatural screech and something that sounded like a buzzsaw, it threw itself forward almost too fast for Natsuki to see, but her shields were raised in time to block the silver flashes of blades aimed at her face. It backed away in surprise and slowed down enough to let her see it clearly.

It was taller than her, but not by much, with two stumpy legs wider than they were long and four toothpick-like arms ending with wicked-looking sickles. Its scaly back bore two pairs of leafy wings that beat impossibly fast in short bursts, producing the loud sound she had heard. She grinned at that; its speed would be useless if she could hear it coming from that far.

"Durhan, load chrome cartridge!" she ordered, and her Child obeyed. It didn't look like it had any kind of protection; one blast should be enough to take it out, she mused.

Durhan turned toward it, only to see that—

—**WHIIIIIZ—**

…it had already moved, and was now a few meters above them. She pointed her guns at it, but faster than she could realize, it dashed again, this time straight down at the new HiME.

"Look o—"

The Child, the Orphan and the girl vanished in an explosion of sand and chalk.

-

--

-

It hadn't taken long for Yuuki to realize he'd been gawking like a moviegoer watching a particularly realistic action film, just long enough for the ice Orphan to take a few thunderously slow steps deeper in the park. Fortunately, it was very slow, and its size meant that practically every tree along the way blocked its path with their branches. That didn't seem to hamper it too much, though, as he saw it casually uproot and shatter an oak and a cherry tree with lazy a wave of its massive fist. Fortunately, it didn't seem like there was anyone who couldn't run from it or hadn't done it already. Unfortunately, it looked like it would be able to do a lot of property damage before the brat and her new friend could get around to killing it, busy as they were.

He had seen her take out something a _lot_ bigger than the pipsqueak she was up against, so he wasn't worried. The thieves remained in his thoughts, but they were less important than stopping that monster as far as he was concerned.

But what could he do? He didn't have super powers, the army would never get there in time, and he had a handgun, but he didn't think something the size of a house would notice a little piece of lead jamming itself in it… not that normal guns worked against Orphans anyway—

Wait a second. Hold on. That thing… Where had he put it again…?

Of course! The car's trunk!

With one last glare at the plodding monster and another glance at the brat's scuffle, he dashed toward the parked patrol car and the weapon it contained; the photon-phaser or phase-disruptinator or whatever-was-its-real-name: the Flash-stick.

-

--

-

No normal human being could hope to survive fighting against an Orphan, even with the help of fearsome beasts like Childs at their command. As such, most HiMEs received not only Elements, but also physical enhancements when they were crowned. This was barely noticeable for some, while others became able to weight lift cars or single-handedly swing around massive weapons that they shouldn't have been able to lift in the first place. Natsuki herself was somewhere near the middle of the spectrum, but it seemed to her, as she saw the new HiME fling herself backward a dozen meters with just one shove of her legs, that the newbie had gotten quite a bit luckier than her.

Still a newbie, though, hence why the younger girl, surprised at the leap she had taken, missed her landing and tripped on her butt. The insect-like Orphan flew out of the dust cloud straight at her, but Natsuki had been ready.

"FIRE!"

There was another explosion of sand and dust, but Natsuki made a face when she realized it hadn't been caused by Durhan's blasts; the shells flew through the cloud to carve another hole in the ballpark's back wall, while the Orphan flew high above the new girl, having used its incredibly fast reflexes to avoid them.

"Damnit!"

'_Apology'_

"_It's not your fault, boy…_" she sent back, mentally weighing her options. The little bugger was fast, but the noise it made reduced its danger level to nearly nothing for an experienced HiME like her. Unfortunately, speed wasn't her strong point; Durhan's shots were relatively slow, too slow to catch something as fast as it. Her guns could hit it, sure, but unless she managed to freeze those wings, she wouldn't be able to do enough damage.

So, she turned toward the other HiME.

"Hey, you!" she yelled; diplomacy had never been her strong point, either. "Can you do anything?"

"U…Uh?" She was still sitting there, staring in incomprehension and horror at the weapon in her hand, and Natsuki held back the sympathy she felt; there'd be time for her to realize what she was later.

"Can you do anything?" She repeated. "What's your name?" Maybe an easier question would get a less vapid answer…

The girl stared at her, then at the small guns in her hands and at Durhan beneath her, with a slowly dawning air of comprehension.

"A…Akira. Okuzaki Akira," she replied. "I… you?"

"Kuga Natsuki," she replied, not taking her eyes away from the buzzing Orphan. "And Durhan."

"Y…You're… a HiME."

Natsuki rolled her eyes. "Well spotted. So are you, by the way, if the star, the mark, the elements and the giant flytrap over there didn't tip you off." Ok, so being in the middle of a battle made her a _bit_ less patient than usual. "Now in case you haven't noticed, there's an Orphan up there, and it wants to cut us a new asshole near our foreheads. What do you think of that?"

"I…" the tomboy blinked at her language, then steeled herself. "What do we do?"

"I—"

—**WHIIIIIZ—**

'_Danger!'_

"Wha—"

Durhan jumped away, barely avoiding the Orphan's sudden dive-bomb. The gunshot-like impact cut off Akira's surprised squeak and the raised dust hid her from Natsuki's view again, but not for long; when she saw her again, the Frog had moved between the Orphan and its HiME, mouth open and _something_ black spinning in it like a drill. With a deafening metallic clank, the Child fired the drill(?) forward, but once again that damnably fast Orphan darted upward and avoided being hit.

"Uwaaa…!" Akira squeaked, falling back. Slowly, clumsily, the frog trudged around as gracefully as its too long legs allowed it to stare into the greenette's terrified eyes. She squeaked again and took a step back. The frog seemed to hesitate, then glanced around like an angry guard dog looking for an intruder.

Natsuki almost groaned when she recognized what was happening. The Child sensed the HiME's fear of itself without understanding its source, ultimately leading to it attacking anything nearby, scaring its HiME even more. A fear loop.

She'd been hoping to avoid that.

"Okazaki!" That was her name, right? Right. Whatever. "Calm down!"

"B…But…"

"That's _your_ Child!" She shouted, remembering words she herself had received in the past. "Don't be afraid of it, it won't ever harm you!"

"B…B…?" She still looked terrified, but the Child's large red eyes were once again on hers. Obviously _something_ was working…

"Akira-kun!" A voice came to their ears and both girls looked toward its source. There, on the stands about thirty meters away, was a young auburn-haired boy in blue and beige, probably one of Akira's friends. Why the hell was he still there?!

Unfortunately, it seemed the Orphan also had ears and, sensing an easier prey than a pair of HiMEs, it launched itself at the boy.

Akira saw this immediately. "TAKUMI!" She yelled, and threw herself forward as fast as she could; had Natsuki not been almost directly behind the action, she probably would have seen nothing but an imperceptible blur.

The younger HiME's footsteps came like automatic fire, small mounds of dust and sand rising far behind her, several meters apart. So fast even a camera would have had trouble seeing it, the green-haired girl threw something, small black blurs so quick Natsuki wondered if she'd imagined them somewhere on the ground at the Orphan's shadow, then threw herself up over the fence in one prodigious leap. Something seemed to slow the monster down, giving enough time for Akira to land next to the idiot boy, but a second later it broke free of whatever it was and finished its flight. With a thunderous crash, it rammed into the benches like a wrecking ball.

The toad must have known more about what was going on than she did, because almost immediately afterward, it leapt up, catching the airborne pair on its head (when she had ever found time to jump up, Natsuki had no idea). The ground shook when it landed, and Natsuki resisted a snigger at seeing the stunned look on Akira's face—the girl had obviously been going on instinct alone.

"Good job there," the bluette said to her, then to the shaken boy, "what the hell were you still doing there?"

"M…my pills," he replied.

"His… His heart is weak," Akira explained, gathering herself, then looked at her blades. "I… these things, they can slow it down… I think."

Ah, so that's what it'd been. "I noticed. Can you do it again?"

Akira frowned. "I don't k-"

"You do know," Natsuki interrupted. "Just think about it, say the first thing that comes to your mind."

"I…" she swallowed nervously, then nodded. "Light. I can pin its… its shadow down, I think… But it's too pale right now, we'd need a better light source… Gennai can… Gennai…" she blinked, then looked down at the toad under her feet. "You're… Gennai."

Natsuki grinned, ignoring the HiME's self-discovery ramblings. "Strong light source, hn? Durhan, load Chrome and Flash Cartridges!"

As Durhan obeyed, Natsuki's grin grew feral. Oh yeah, she could do light, alright.

-

--

-

Damn but that thing was _heavy_.

He was back where he'd started, near the bench in front of the ballpark, but with the massive futuristic-looking Orphan-busting rifle in his arms, and with probably a whole liter of missing sweat. However, now that he was armed, he could do something.

…_something_. Like, what? On the other side of the fence, it didn't look like Kuga and her toad-loving friend had killed the first Orphan yet, but the massive ice Orphan was still heading deeper in the park, causing a _lot_ more damage. Then there were the thieves. Where were they? He was pretty sure he wouldn't get there in time to put a collar on them this time either, but it couldn't be helped… hopefully the Chief would agree. Besides, she'd asked him to be Kuga's partner, right?

So what could he do? He could go up deeper in the park and start shooting the big Orphan, but he remembered Kumaji's warning about how efficient the heavy rifle was supposed to be against them, so doing that was begging to get stomped on like a mosquito. So obviously, that was out; he'd already had plenty of that with that lobster thing.

There was only one thing he could do, he realized as he raised the rifle in position and aimed inside the ballpark. Time to help the brat.

Whether Yuuki's shot turned out to have changed anything was a question no one could answer. The sequence of events happened very, very quickly; first the Orphan decided to make another pass at the delicious morsels standing on Gennai's head, if eating was even its goal in the first place. The toad's red ribbon-like structure rose over its back while the blue tubes inserted themselves into turbines on its back.

"FIRE!" Natsuki yelled, and Durhan obeyed; instead of a torrent of ice or a more conventional HE shell, the shot Durhan fired erupted into brilliant light, almost blinding the police officer. The Orphan wasn't so lucky, and with an alarmed screech, it slowed down.

The toad's turbines started spinning, and light erupted from the ribbons. A clean shadow drew itself on the wall behind the Orphan. Akira threw her blades toward it.

Yuuki fired at that moment, miraculously hitting the suddenly immobilized Orphan and tearing a hole barely as large as a golf ball in one of its wings. Its screech didn't change noticeably.

"FIRE!" Natsuki yelled once more.

The chrome shell hit it directly in the guts. Its screech stopped suddenly, replaced by a detonation and a rain of green flaming debris; very few of them reached the ground, and none remained half a minute later. Natsuki flashed a grin at Akira.

"Hot damn."

The other HiME blinked, then slowly smiled and nodded.

"Oi, Kuga! There's still one left!" Yuuki shouted. Natsuki blinked; he was still there?

"Why the fuck didn't you go after the thieves?" She yelled.

"N…Never mind that!" Oh, he _so_ didn't want to tell her he'd taken so long to react that the thieves were probably gone. "The other one went that way!"

"Thanks," Natsuki rolled her eyes; the uprooted, smashed, crushed or otherwise destroyed trail it had left behind wasn't a big enough hint, see… She turned to look at Akira and the boy… Takumi, was it? and said, "I'm going after it. You don't have to follow if you don't wan—"

"Takumi, stay here," Akira ordered her friend, as if not hearing Natsuki's offer to back out at all. "I'll be right back." Natsuki noticed she used "ore1"…definitely a tomboy, and not a spray-painted one.

"You don't have to tell me… just… good luck…?" He said.

She gave him a boyish grin. "Luck's for that bastard Daichi, I don't need it."

Takumi gave her a dubious look, but didn't say anything.

Natsuki and Akira's eyes met, and together, on their Childs' backs, they went after the big Orphan, leaving the little boy and the mature young man behind.

"…Who the hell designed this damn strap…" Yuuki cursed, trying to find a comfortable way to carry the damn rifle. Takumi gave him a slow look.

-

--

-

"It's… big," Akira noted.

No, really? was what Natsuki _felt_ like saying, but to be honest she was thinking the same thing as the green-head. It was one damn big Orphan, taller and bulkier than anything she'd faced before, even including the seafood reject from three days ago. An obvious downside was that she doubted even her kinetic shields to be able to stop a punch that size—HiME instincts being what they were, she _really_ didn't feel like testing that hunch—but on the upside…

"Load Chrome Cartridge! Fire!"

…it was _slow_i/. The twin shells flew perfectly and detonated against the back of its head, drawing a grunt of pain that probably registered on the city's seismographs. Little bits of it flew off in a shower of green glitter, but it didn't even turn around to face them; another tree went flying out of its path as it continued walking toward the end of the park.

"Where is it going?" Akira asked.

"Fucked if I know," Natsuki replied. "I'll take a look from above, you try to slow it down."

"Huh?"

Instead of explaining, Natsuki transformed Durhan into hoverbike mode and launched him upward, still latched on his back. Once above the treeline, Natsuki immediately saw what the creature was after; its path, very easy to see from the trail of destruction, led it in a straight line toward the artificial lake at the south end of the park.

Maybe it was HiME instincts, maybe it was experience fighting Orphans, or maybe it was just plain common sense, seeing at the thing was made of ice, but something told her letting it reach the lake was a bad idea. She took control of Durhan and made them land near the lake's shore, where only a few trunks separated her from the monster.

"Durhan, load chrome cartridge!"

Durhan obeyed, but she sensed more than felt how difficult it was for him; he was getting tired, and she knew he wouldn't be able to fire many more shots, even if he wasn't informing her of it directly. She had to make this count.

There was a flash between the trees as Gennai's ribbons erupted into light, and a machine-gun like series of impacts when Akira's elements tried to pin its shadow against the tree trunks. The Orphan paused for only a second, but with something that could have been either a grunt of effort or an annoyed snort, the enormous beast shoved forward, and the trees serving as anchors went flying, roots still clinging to the dirt that fed them.

One of its massive palmed feet broke out of the devastated tree line and into the paved path a short distance away, followed by the other, down on the sand a mere meter away from the water. Natsuki aimed for the back foot.

"FIRE!"

Once more, Durhan's aim was perfect. The beast flinched this time, its movement aborted. For a moment, Natsuki dared hope that it would stumble, but one of its massive fists flew down to dig a crater into concrete and rock, holding it upright. It turned its beady little eyes toward her, and its other fist went up.

'_Danger!!_'

Durhan bucked, throwing her forward and off his back. The fist went down.

—**CRASH!!—**

Natsuki landed face first and tasted dirt, but she didn't care; her entire attention was on her Child. As soon as she could, she spun around.

To her immense relief, Durhan was standing, dwarfed by the Orphan's fist right next to him. He didn't hesitate for a second and dashed for her, grabbing her by the shirt with his jaws and flinging her on his back before taking flight again. As they sped away, Natsuki saw something black return to Gennai's mouth; Akira's Child's projectile had shoved the fist aside, saving Durhan's life, and by extension, her own. Natsuki gave them a grateful nod. Akira returned it.

And then, the Orphan reached the lake.

Or rather, the lake reached the Orphan. The injured foot was dragged into the shallow edges, and was immediately mended. Worse than that, Natsuki watched in horror as it siphoned the lake away; dirty lake water flew _up_ its body, enveloping it and freezing, enlarging the creature. She could do nothing but stare as the lake vanished completely, and when it was gone, the Orphan had gone from standing as tall as the tallest tree in the park to being taller than the buildings around it.

Feeling entirely inadequate floating like a fly next to the titanic monster, Natsuki could do nothing but stare as a foot as big as a small house took it away from the drained lake.

"…fuck."

-

--

-

Yuuki had not been idle in that time. He had the (accurate) feeling that his rifle would do very, very little against something the size of what the brat was shooting. The only thing he _could_ do was, after making sure the other little kid would be safe, to find what the thieves had hit this time, and hope they'd left something juicy behind, or (dare he hoped?) were still there for him to stop them.

Once on the street, he looked around, brain going in full drive. Their first target had been a fruit store, their second a jewelry. Both times, they had gone for money or for expensive wares, meaning their goal was to get rich. They'd been unsatisfied with what they'd got out of the first target and attacked something bigger on the second try, but with the lack of buyers for their stolen goods, they didn't get anything out of it either.

Meaning… meaning…

He dismissed two nondescript offices and the drug store immediately. Not enough liquid money there. The electronics store next to them was also ignored; same reason. Seeing as they had picked _here_ to attack, it meant they'd had found what they wanted; the amateurish positioning of the first attack followed by the much better targeting of the second hinted on a progression, a pattern. These thieves, these gutsy, gifted but incredibly dumb thieves, were drunk on their victories and would have hit the juiciest target they could imagine. And since they were after money…

_Shinsei Bank_

…bingo.

-

--

-

Spiral-shaped shurikens flew and dug small holes in the shadow-covered street. For a moment, they remained standing, but when the Orphan moved enough to allow sunshine to reach the little blades, they were yanked out as if pulled by strings, taking large chunks of pavement with them. The ice monster did not even slow down.

"It's useless," Akira said to a flying Natsuki between prodigious leaps from Gennai. "The street isn't tough enough to hold it." She sighed. "I should have kept that luck…"

"What about the buildings?" Natsuki asked. The green head shot her a startled look.

"B…But there are people in them! If I pin it to one and it pulls hard enough…"

Natsuki ticked her tongue in annoyance, thinking hard to figure out a way to stop it. The trail of destruction had changed from trees and dirt to concrete, steel and glass, but its path was straight, single-minded. It was probably a good thing it seemed to consider breaking buildings down to be more effort than walking around them, otherwise it would have left a trail of death and rubble instead of simply busted streets and destroyed façades on its way east.

East, but more precisely, and Natsuki growled at the offending and unwitting destination of the beast, toward Tokyo Bay. The massive expanse of water connecting directly with the Pacific Ocean was only a few hundred meters away now, if one flew over or crashed through the highway blocking the path. She didn't want to think of how big it would grow if it absorbed that much water. A new word would have to be coined.

Unfortunately, there was little to nothing she and Akira could do to stop it. Both Gennai and Durhan were exhausted, Natsuki's elements were worse than useless, and Akira 's had been their last hope. It looked like all they could do was make sure no one would end up hurt by it, and hope someone stronger would show up. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like there was any other HiMEs anywhere nearby; surely something as big as this guy couldn't go unnoticed! Either that, or none of them had decided to help out or felt they could help (which was the more likely possibility).

Natsuki grit her teeth as the monster set off in a street too small for itself; one of its feet turned a vehicle warehouse into as much twigs and scrap metal. It couldn't be helped. "It's gonna reach the highway soon, let's block the lanes."

Akira nodded, looking as annoyed as Natsuki felt, and a hundred times more scared.

Oh, who was she kidding? Had Akira really been a hundred times more scared than her, she would have died a dozen times over.

If that thing got to the ocean, they were _fucked_.

-

--

-

_In the middle of a crowded street, a small hand grabbed the young woman's sleeve. "Ano…" _

"_Hm? What is it?" _

_Some distance away, a pair of crimson eyes narrowed. _

"_Oh? Finally interfering?" _

-

--

-

"Rich Rich Rich Rich, we're very Rich!"

Yuuki grinned from where he crouched in front of the counter as he heard the sing-song voice. Seemed like they got greedy and overstayed their welcome. Perfect for him; it looked like his natural assumption of competency on their part had been wrong. He really needed to check that reflex with _these_ idiots.

The flash stick had been carefully left behind (but not too far away, just in case they called up another Orphan on him) and his handgun was already drawn. Gun laws being what they were, it was doubtful they were armed, so he'd be fine enough, so long as he didn't let them separate too much; he didn't like his chances fighting three grown men in close combat. Reinforcements had already been called and would get here any minute; all he had to do was stall them.

Carefully, he looked over the counter. The vault door was open—the shapely service clerk lying prone next to it had probably been threatened into opening it, which could explain why they'd taken so long to get to this point—and the voices floated from inside, along with sounds of boxes being pulled open, unlocked and looted.

"W-Will you be quiet, we're not done yet." The voice was shaky, as if the person owning it wanted to speak much louder but didn't have the backbone to do so.

"But Beru-kun, look! Bags full of cash! We're rich!" The second voice was… dumb. There was no other term for it; everything in it hinted in its owner being as agile mentally as a slug in winter.

"Don't call me that! The cops could still come…"

"And we'll just beat them up and leave, like Okutabius-sensei or the Shokka, only not like the Shokka because he always gets beat up, and not Okutabius-sensei because we don't have tentacle arms, and we'd need a rhinoceros suit to—"

Yuuki blinked in confusion. What the hell was he talking about now?

The first voice made a strangled sound, as if his argument had been found lacking in willpower and ended up stillborn. "I…In any case, we should hurry. Who knows how long our Orphans will distract everyone."

"But Ruru, we've only emptied half the vault—"

"It's Berzelius!" The first, which Yuuki realized had to be Konishi, suddenly erupted. "Not Beru-kun, not Ruru—"

"Calm down, Berzelius," a third voice, calm and stoic, said. "And Blade, he's right. We can't wait much longer."

"Aww, aniki2…"

The third had to be Ueda Tetsuo, the "Kaito kid", which meant that this one was the Freak show, Ueda Sunao (Blade? Berzelius? They'd picked crappy nicknames, too). And it appeared they were finished with the vault. Just his luck again. Fortunately, he had the perfect spot; the service counter he was hidden behind wasn't high enough to stop people from jumping over; it was shaped like an "L", with the long part protected by a thick glass while the short leg was unprotected and contained the door to the back section they would have to come from.

The wall at his right, in front of the counter, was covered with very sturdy half-an-inch thick windows giving to the street and the destroyed ballpark. The employees and clients must have had first row seats to the Orphans' appearance and had probably been the first ones to run away. Behind him, a short distance away, was the end of the smooth brick wall separating the business and transaction sides of the bank, and still beyond that was the front door, giving to the street corner.

He could see no other way out. They were as good as trapped.

Showtime.

-

--

-

Yamada Hanatarou had been having a lousy day.

Part of it was because of the cargo his truck carried, namely two hundred and fifty thousand liters of non-pasteurized milk for cheese production. While he had nothing against milk or cheese, his truck's cooling system apparently did; the mechanism had failed about an hour ago, and he'd been spending whatever moment he could spare to look away from the highway to glance nervously at the temperature display on his dashboard. In twenty years of career, he'd never messed up once, and he wasn't about to start now.

He lit another cigar, his third since leaving; his teeth had cut through halfway into the previous one.

He was almost there, though, and the highway was miraculously fluid for this time of the day, especially in the middle of Golden Week. Going west at the next junction would take him very close to his destination; he was maybe twenty minutes away, checks included. Unfortunately, he didn't know if the milk would last that long, but there was little he could do except drive as fast as he could and hope he didn't end up in a sudden--

**!!**

**(&/?)(**

His heart skipped a beat and both of his feet found the brake pedal. Had he been a less experienced driver, his truck would have jackknifed in a second, but as it was, he barely managed to break in time to avoid ramming into the suicidal HiME who'd gone and **parked her fucking Child across the highway.** Cursing, he kicked the door and tried to get out. When that didn't work, he tried the handle instead.

"HEY! What the f… What's going on here?!" That brat had to be around eleven years old… stupid kid thinking she's doing something funny, no doubt. Her Child, a big metal wolf, gave him a threatening look, while she didn't even bother to take notice of him.

"Just wait a second," she replied absently, staring at… where exactly? Somewhere at the buildings on the left… Bah, who cared! His precious flawless record wasn't going to be ruined by a little idiot's dumb game!

"Now you listen here. What I have in my truck is—"He paused, just long enough to realize his hands were shaking. He put the cigar to his mouth and continued, "…my truck's carrying perishable goods… stuff that'll get spoiled very soon. Do you get me? I don't have time to play—" The ground shook a little. He ignored it. "—your little games, so if—" a gigantic foot of ice made its apparition behind the building the little girl had been staring at, "you would…n't… mind…" he trailed off.

The foot crashed on the rails bordering the building, crushing three sets of tracks and raising an impressive cloud of debris. The other foot came forward and Hanatarou saw the beast they belonged to…

It was… big. His mind stopped taking details in at that point, afraid of what _else_ it would find out.

It was only when the Orphan (because it _had_ to be that) walked into a set of elevated rails and snapped the reinforced concrete structure like twigs that he came to his senses. He dimly noticed his cigar had fallen from his limp lips.

Screw his record. He was _definitely_ not staying there.

Natsuki actually sighed in relief as that retarded truck driver scampered off like a mouse. The Orphan continued its slow walk, its massive feet turning a small plaza into fine concrete dust, then digging monstrous potholes in the deserted (thanks to her and Akira's efforts) highway, uncaring of the power lines (**snap—cracklesnap****snap**), the random tree limb (**shh-crack—snap**) or the traffic light (**Squeee--CRRUNCH--clapclaaaangclannnng**) it encountered.

It _really_ pissed her off to have to let it go along like that, but it wasn't like she or Akira could do anything except cling to dwindling hopes that _someone_ would arrive to help, preferably someone whose element happened to be a pocket nuke. Only a large-but-not-large-enough forested park separated it from the sea now, and if no one had bothered to come when it was breaking cars and damaging buildings, even fewer people would bother coming to help stopping it from stomping on a few trees.

At least, not until it would reach the ocean and everything would go to hell in a handbasket carried by 3 grinning baboons.

Damnit all! She was _so_ going to cas…castre… kick those damn thieves in the balls when she caught them!

She looked around, trying to find _some_ way of stopping it or slowing it down or even give it a _toothache _(oh wait, it didn't have a mouth, did it?), anything. The park, some kind of historical site she couldn't identify, had nothing but trees, grass, a couple of useless buildings and fleeing birds/people in equal numbers. It was surrounded on three sides by dark water contained there by a dyke and reclaimed land, where some tourism company had parked its unused yachts and cruise boats. Neither of the buildings immediately nearby, some kind of office on the boats' side and a several stories residential block on the other side of the highway, held any ideas—

Wait. Hold on.

Parked ships.

Not parked, that wasn't the right word. _Moored_ ships, weighing several tons, held in place by a handful of _mooring lines_ strong enough to them it in place in case one of Tokyo's relatively frequent typhoons tried to pull them away.

How strong was a cable like that? Strong enough to, say, tie up the legs of a Mothra-sized popsicle, maybe?

_Excellent_.

She reached the pier in less than half a minute, enough time for the lumbering giant to take only a pair of steps toward the bay. Akira had apparently reached her second wind, as told the handful of uprooted trees that followed its shade like… well, broccoli held by invisible cheese was the first thing she thought. Maybe the younger HiME thought she'd run away and was attacking out of desperation…?

Come to think about it, she hadn't told the newbie about her plan, had she?

Whoops.

Oh well, she had never claimed to be a team player.

Her landing near the fixtures on the pier came mostly unnoticed, as the handful of dock workers present were looking at the Orphan like guests at a particularly gruesome play. However, when she started pulling at the closest cable she could reach, a long one tied to the front of a seventy-some meters Luxury Yacht, one of them ran up to her.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled. "You can't just—"

"Durhan." _'Threaten, don't attack.'_

'_Comprehension.'_ "GRRRRR."

"—take tha…er… good… boy… …thing… er…"

The cable came loose easily enough, and a short flight later, she was busily untying the boatside section, giving nervous glances at the park all the while. The Orphan had made less progress than she'd thought, probably thanks to Akira (a uprooting a handful of trees weren't a problem, but it seemed dragging a few dozen around _was_), but there were still only a few steps left before it'd reach the ocean.

The mooring line finally came loose. It was a little short for her tastes, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and she most definitely _was_ a beggar at that point. Wasting no time, she made Durhan grab it in his jaws (it was _way_ too heavy for her middle schoolgirl's arms) and flew straight for the Orphan.

"Okazaki! The line!" She yelled to the top of her voice when she thought the other HiME could hear her, and hoped _dearly_ she wouldn't do something stupid, like, say, grab the line herself.

Fortunately, Akira seemed to have her wits with her. As soon as it was in range, Gennai's "tongue" flashed out, curled around the rope (allowing Natsuki to see that the tip wasn't a drill after all, but rather some kind of studded wrecking ball) and dragged it into the frog's mouth. She moved to control Durhan, but to her surprise the Child sent her an image of tied legs and a sensation of understanding. Grinning, Natsuki sent back a confirmation and let him lead himself; she could have done it and he wouldn't have minded, she knew, but he was naturally more gifted at controlling his own body than her.

Well, obviously.

The Orphan didn't even seem to notice them for the first two turns. Natsuki figured she wouldn't notice if a fly hovered around her legs carrying a string of spider web, either. On the third turn, the rope caught into its step and Durhan jerked violently, almost knocking her off (there was a surprised squeak from below as Akira lost her balance and fell off onto the dirt), but they recovered enough to make a fourth pass, ducking a waving fist in the process.

Then the line tightened like a noose in the middle of the fifth pass. Natsuki quickly ordered Durhan to the ground, where he dug his legs as far into the earth as he could. The Orphan made a noise like a grunting gorilla as it found its legs suddenly being immobilized, and started to pull.

'_PAINpulling__strain__Loyalty__**painLegs/**__Love__**painJAWS**__ '_

Natsuki _winced_ at the echoes she was getting from Durhan and almost ordered him to release right there, but restrained herself. Behind them, the Orphan was, for the first time since it had grown from big to Icezilla, visibly straining. She spared a glance at Akira, who was holding her head and grunting in pain, suffering from the same reciprocal pain as Natsuki herself, without the experience to know how to distance herself. The ropes were tensed taught around the monster's frozen legs and were making an alarming creaking in strain. It had, however, stopped.

It had worked. She allowed herself a pang of hope and pride…

—**CrrrrKKKKKK--****K****--**_**SNAP**_**!!**

...which proved to be a mistake when the cables suddenly gave in to the pressure and snapped with an incredible sound, whipping in every direction like striking snakes. Durhan _lurched_ backward; Natsuki barely prevented an intimate meeting between her face and the dirt by catching herself on his cannons. Akira, having already fallen, was safe to watch her Child bouncing almost comically backward on his powerful legs to crash noisily into a tree.

And then, the Orphan started walking again. Thirty meters, three steps, separated it from the waters of Tokyo Bay.

Two steps.

One step.

Natsuki lost hope.

…then a powerful flash of fire colliding against its massive shoulder made it tip over; Natsuki and Akira watched the gigantic beast topple to the ground as if in slow motion, its massive fist too late at catching its fall. There was an impossibly loud crash and a tremor in the earth as it fell on its back, turning a good acre of forest into matchsticks in the process.

"You two look like you've worked pretty hard," a voice, adult and female, remarked from above; Natsuki looked up to see an elegant woman, probably around her mid twenties (though it could have been thirty or so; _grownups_…) riding sidesaddle on the flat of a burning sword and descending slowly. She was wearing a brown housewifely dress, had her long auburn hair tied in a braid and her delicately angled face bore a gentle, motherly smile.

Contrasting sharply with that, the sword, a long katana or a short nodachi, she was sitting on in a woman's saddle was surrounded with brilliant flames; its flawless blade was curved elegantly and its metal shone with deadly perfection, in sharp contrast with the vulgar old cloth handle from which a plastic shopping bag hung.

"Good timing," Natsuki greeted as the woman landed next to her. "Can you do anything? We're kinda…"

The older HiME's soft hand fell on the teenager's shoulder. "I'll take it from here."

"It's pretty strong," Natsuki warned, and the woman's smile became a little impish.

"Maybe, but it's made of ice, and unfortunately for it…"

Her free hand rose, and a ball of light and heat grew over her upturned palm.

"…my Child is the Goddess of Fire." She threw the fireball in the air, then grabbed her floating sword just behind its tomoe-shaped guard and cut it in half with one smooth slice. "**Amaterasu!**"

For the next moments, the only thing Natsuki saw was fire—fire in the sky, fire in the sea, fire in the trees, fire all over her, fire erupting from the broken ball, dancing and spinning in every direction like a tornado, a maelstrom of flames—but there was no heat, no pain, no smoke. And from the center, where the flames were the brightest, Amaterasu appeared as if from a private dance with the older HiME; skin the same tone as burning lava, golden hair twisting and dancing like a flame, rising to her full colossal height from the same flames that whirled around her naked form to create an elegant ceremonial kimono.

The Orphan paused in its attempts to stagger upright, and apparently realizing the peril it was facing, frenetically moved to crawl for the shore as quickly as its massive bulk allowed it to.

A hand as large as a car close around the grip of the building-sized sword sheathed in the Child's obi and meticulously pulled it out. Her eyes opened, twin suns glaring their indomitable will toward the fleeing monster. Slowly, the sword rose.

The Orphan reached the shore with a victorious roar and started to absorb the sea…

…then Amaterasu's sword slashed down, and with a powerful deflagration, the Orphan ceased to exist.

And so did the shore, the dike separating the marina from the open sea, and a good part of Tokyo bay; Natsuki was treated to the spectacle of twin walls of water several hundred meters long falling with a thunderous groan to fill the hole left behind by the almighty flames of a mature HiME's Child. For several minutes the roar of waves and wind echoed all over the city as the world recoiled from the hit.

Then Amaterasu turned toward her HiME. Her stony glare melted into a genuine smile, which the older woman returned, before melting further into a dim blaze. As if banished by the world, the Child's form faded and disappeared, and all that was left after was a deep, awed silence, as if everything in the world sensed that the first to make a noise would be eternally cursed.

And it was the older HiME who did, while smiling at them. "You did pretty well, holding it like that."

The bluette hadn't even noticed her mouth was gaping.

"T…Tokiha-sensei?" It was Akira, standing from the woods where she'd been checking on her Child. The older HiME blinked.

"Ara…? Akira-chan? Then Takumi…"

"He's safe, I left him in the park… ano… thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank the little girl who told me you needed my help," she smiled daintily and lifted her shopping bag, "I'm afraid I caused quite a stir calling my element in the middle of Ginza, but since it let me help you again, Akira-chan, I won't regret the problems it'll give me," the latter was delivered with a playful ruffle of the greenette's hair. The newly crowned HiME made a halfhearted protest—"Sen_sei…_!" which only spurred 'Tokiha-sensei' to coddle her more.

Watching the scene from aside, Natsuki found herself smiling a little…

_Obaa__chan__! I told you I'm fine already… mou, Shizuru, there isn't even a bruise, see—__Gykk__—…__**Shizuru!!**_

Then with a wistful (and maybe just a little weary) sigh, she climbed on Durhan's back. She didn't really want to be there when people would start showing up to evaluate the damage.

Besides, like it or not, she had a partner to check up on.

Knowing him, he had probably found himself a third Orphan to get stomped on by.

'Little girl who told her we needed help, hn?' she thought idly, her attention elsewhere. 'I wonder how she got all the way to Ginza…'

-

--

-

"FREEZE!"

It was probably a good thing Yuuki had shouted as soon as he'd heard the thieves' footsteps approach the counter, because, had he waited until he had them in sight, he knew he would had frozen up for a few precious seconds. It was something to see them and their outlandish costumes on camera, it was something else entirely to have them right in your face, almost as if reality had walked over, kicked all reason to the curb and said, _'yes, there really are people who dress up like this to commit high-handed robbery, no, you're not dreaming'._

The first thing he noticed after he was done boggling over their clothes, was where their last stunt's loot had gone. Ueda Tetsuo had decided to take necklaces for himself; four different chains, gold and silver, the longest bearing a big golden disk–wait, was that a pocket watch?—hung around his neck. Ueda Sunao had chosen rings; each of his fingers were adorned with at least two rings, gold or silver, with or without gems, most of them far too ornamental to have been meant for men. As for Tokiichi Konishi, he had, as the good scientist he was, picked the most practical thing possible, although Yuuki wondered his wisdom—more than before, that is—at deciding to put on three different wristwatches around each arm. The three of them carried trash bags which he presumed were full of money over their shoulders.

"Ah… AH…! It's a cop, Aniki! It's a cop!" Sunao exclaimed almost happily, pointing at him with his free hand (that turned out not to be so free after all, holding some kind of weird knife in it) and bouncing like a child at a fair. "And he's got a gun! And now we're going to fight and he's going to shoot at us and the bullets will hurt and we'll go to jail and we'll make a power suit or something and escape and he's going to—"

The other two reacted their own ways; Konishi's eyes went comically wide and his body took the rigidity of a board, while Tetsuo made a mouse-like squeak and panicked. Ignoring the rambling tirade (which Yuuki decided he really didn't feel like trying to figure out), the older brother immediately ducked out of view and tried to find an escape route.

A few seconds later, he seemed to realize the only way out was through the armed policeman and, panicking further, he grabbed one of the clerk chairs, a lightweight thing he lifted with one hand, and tried to chuck it through the window.

It bounced off; bulletproof glass did that to flying chairs. Nonetheless, he picked it up and tried again, and again, while his little brother cheered him on and Konishi looked like he wanted to say something without finding the spine to do so.

Figuring it couldn't hurt, Yuuki just let him waste his strength and time; he even dared lower his gun (to preserve his arms, and especially not in dumbfounded—in the etymologically correct sense of the word—surprise). Twice more, the chair clattered harmlessly off the window, and each time Konishi's reaction got a little bigger.

_THUMP—Claklap_

Finally, after the seventh attempt, the scientist finally spoke up,

"Uh, Joker… um… that won't… I don't think this will work," he muttered, increasing in volume along the way.

The top-hat wearer scoffed at this. "Nonsense, I just need to throw this right…"

Apparently forgotten, Yuuki couldn't resist a smile of amazed amusement as the thief wasted his strength for the eighth time…

_Somewhere else, fingers clicked_

_And there was a flash of red_

_Thum—crk__**k—CRAAAASH!!**_

…and nearly dropped his gun in shock.

Bulletproof windows are, like the name indicates, bulletproof; this implies a structure built with enough thickness and bounce to it to not only resist bullet impacts, but to absorb their energy so efficiently that nothing short of military-grade ammunition could theoretically pierce through, and even then, their penetration power would be spent.

It was understandable that Yuuki's brain tried to divide by zero trying to understand how a chair weighing barely one kilogram, thrown at arms length, could possibly cause an entire pane of such a window to _break apart_ and collapse to the floor like a card castle blown by the wind.

He recovered quickly enough and brought his gun on them, but they'd already used their chance to dash through the opening and head for their van. His finger found the trigger and pulled easily (**PAW!**), but the angle was such that another of these supposedly bulletproof windows (yeah RIGHT. This bank must have skimped on the expenses.) separated them.

Unfortunately, it turned out that it _was_ a bulletproof window after all. The thieves reached the van and hurriedly gunned its engine. Cursing, Yuuki dashed for the front door and out into the streets, but as soon as he looked to see them…

…nothing.

The van was gone. And it wasn't down any direction, either. It was like it had flown away. Just in case, he looked up; nothing but clouds.

His brain caught up and he realized it was likely still there, leaving, probably passing right next to him, and _he simply couldn't see it_. In fact, he couldn't even sense any sign of it; his every senses were telling him the street was completely deserted.

He'd had them right in front of him. He'd had them trapped.

But they'd escaped. Right. Under. His. Eyes.

"GODDAMNIT!"

He paced where the van had been, not sure of what he was looking for, and found nothing. The only evidence that the thieves had even been there was the shattered window and the two abandoned bags of mone…y…

Hey, consolation prize; they'd left most of their loot behind! There was that.

Now if only it hadn't been for this thrice-damned cheap window, he grumbled mentally as he walked inside and squatted over the broken glass. Strange, it _looked_ like it was bulletproof glass…

Hm?

He frowned, then reached forward. Under one of the pieces, on the floor, was something… something red… something that looked like… something that could very well be…!

He reached in his pocket for his handkerchief and, after gently moving the glass out of the way, took a small sample of the red and wet fluid on the floor. It stained the blackish red of blood.

"_Ah… AH…! It's a cop, Aniki! It's a cop!" Sunao exclaimed almost happily, pointing at him with his free hand (that turned out not to be so free after all, holding some kind of weird knife in it)_

_The_ _vault door was open—the shapely service clerk lying prone next to it had probably been threatened into opening it_

…

…

SHIT.

-

--

-

Finding the man who was her partner turned out to be a simple task for Natsuki; from above, the flashing lights of the three patrol cars and the single ambulance parked in front of the bank were like a lighthouse on a clear night. No one blinked twice when she and Durhan landed behind the security line.

She recognized two of the officers by face, without knowing their names; none of them were _that guy_. The paramedics were carrying a wounded out; there was the telltale bump of breasts deforming the sheet, so it wasn't him either.

She looked inside. As she appraised the destruction with a curious eyebrow raised—for once, none of this was her fault! What a novel feeling…—he walked out of the far hallway with a video tape in hand.

"Ah, good timing," he said as soon as he saw her. "Could you get your dog to check if the stain next to you is blood? It's on the floor, in the glass there somewhere at your right—ah… you, take this and the evidence bags back to HQ please," the latter was addressed to one of the officers, who nodded and went to obey.

The stain in question was easy to find, dark red on white and grey tiles among transparent bits. Even though he was exhausted, Durhan was still eager to obey her; the unmistakable stench of blood, more intense than the human nose and mind was meant to absorb, flowed into her mind from her Child's senses. She reeled; the connection was shut off with an apology.

"It is," she told Yuuki, inwardly comforting the metallic wolf.

(The officer left through the front door. A gust of wind flowed in as a passage was made temporarily.)

The kansaijin nodded, not appearing surprised at all. A frown appeared on his face; he was thinking, but Natsuki wondered about wha—

'_Blood!'_

The smell flowed through her Child's link again, much fainter. Only this time, Durhan's nose was not on the ground; the wind had carried the smell with it.

Which meant…!!

'_Follow!_' she ordered, climbing on Durhan's back. Behind them, Yuuki called after her, but she didn't slow down.

-

--

-

"Now what's she doing…" Yuuki sighed, following the running wolf and the little girl riding it down the deserted street. The relieved high he'd been on since discovering the clerk didn't have any wound but an ugly bruise on her temple was fading now, replaced by annoyance. Did she think this was a playground or something? He had other things to do than chase her across the cit—

He stopped his own thoughts there, chiding himself. She'd been working that way for a while, hadn't she? And Kumaji didn't look like the type who'd have tolerated any kind of messing around from her, did he? Which meant she had to have found something interesting, somehow, right?

All the way over there, a whole block away from the bank? A part of him remained skeptical, the part of him that refused to see her anything but as a brat. Another part of him just hoped she had a good reason this time…

'_Had she ever done anything without a good reason in front of him?'_ a third part of him chided.

Pissing him off?

'_Well, I kinda asked for that.'_

Destroying a hamburger joint over a pot of mayonnaise?

'_It's a good reason for her! …probably._'

He sighed. This kid was going to give him grey hair before his thirties, at this rate.

When he reached her and what she'd discovered soon after, though, he retracted every objection he'd had.

The alley's left wall belonged to a karaoke, and served as its dumpster. And among the small pile of black trash bags full of discarded foodstuff, an arm stuck out from the elbow, a small and deathly white hand dangling limply from its end.

Even as he called out for attention, he couldn't help but stare at Kuga Natsuki's completely still face.

-

--

-

The streets were deserted and plunged in the darkness of the night when Yuuki finally cleared the last turn leading down to the Himeno orphanage. At his left, Kuga sat in the passenger's seat, staring pensively out the window. It could have been the darkness, but he was completely unable to read that young visage, even when a streetlight shone its golden light inside the car.

The clock said 23:00. She was probably exhausted.

But she was big enough to stay out of bed. He recognized that now.

No kid had that kind of reaction to seeing a dead body, especially not the dead body of another child, one mutilated like the one they'd found. Or rather, the one_s_ they'd found; there had been another body of the same young age, with identical wounds and identical faces. He hadn't even needed Ishigami's confirmation to know who it was, either.

The missing twins, Amasaki Yuuko and Yuuno, had finally been found, but not in the way everyone would have wanted. They'd waited at the HQ for the express autopsy results, but the cause of death had been evident from the beginning; both victims had been left with nothing where their chests had once been. Their insides, heart, lungs and other organs, had been completely missing; the flesh inside had been left blackened and flaky, as if a powerful flame had burned them open. There hadn't been time for a full DNA test, but the uncommon blood type of the twins had matched with the stain found in the bank.

There were no coincidences in this line of work. The thieves had to have done this.

And yet, even with the gruesome scene in front of her, a sight so horrible even he'd almost lost it, Kuga Natsuki hadn't even blinked. She'd been taking in the scene, the same way a veteran detective would have.

The patrol car reached the orphanage and slowed down to a stop. Kuga reached over and opened the door without a word. Stepping onto the sidewalk, she hesitated a little, wavered, before finally turning her cold emerald eyes toward his; they were much too cold to belong to a thirteen years old.

"I want to stop them, Tanaka," she said simply.

He nodded without hesitating.

"We will, Kuga."

A connection had been made; an understanding, a common purpose, something they could put their differences aside for.

He finally allowed himself to trace the lines between dots he'd been refusing to see.

Kuga Natsuki was not a child.

Not anymore.

--

The idiot's voice was grating on his nerves.

Who the hell cared about that cash? It wasn't like they could use it anymore, not with their faces plastered as Japan's most wanted on every available TV screen! Yet that fool kept on dancing and cheering like blithering moron (which he was) while his idiot brother nodded and agreed like any of what they'd done mattered.

He'd been going along with their farce for too long, he felt. He knew.

But it was for a good cause, all of it. After all, he had The Book, and although he hadn't read all of it yet, he knew the secret of Orphans had to be hidden there somewhere. Yet if he showed too much dissent or refused to play along, that damn Tetsuo was likely to take it to fill his own pathetic ambitions, never mind that he'd never have the intelligence to figure out the first thing about what was written on this precious pages.

As for running away with it, their _benefactor_ had forbidden that; they had to remain together until they'd paid him back, or else _he_ would take it all away. And all things considered, Konishi didn't think he'd be able to stop _him_ if it came to that; _he_ looked like he had more in common with Orphans than the little boy he appeared to be.

"Look, Beru-kun! We're rich!" Sunao had apparently decided that having it screamed in his face twenty times was not enough for Konishi to realize they'd just stolen a couple dozen million yen, and proceeded to whack him in the face with a bag full of the aforementioned money. He felt another chink in his much maligned armor of patience being chipped open.

"Y…Yes, I see that." Damn his lack of composure, damn it straight to hell! All he wanted to do was to stand up and yell in their imbecile faces about how their ridiculous romps were risking everything he'd managed to bargain for, to tell them to sit down and shut up… but he couldn't. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, his strength flowed away like a pressurized gas leaking uselessly from a fissured bottle.

Damn it all to hell.

One day, he'd take Sunao's knife and jam it right between his ribs. He could already feel it throbbing with the last of the fool's life between his fingers, and he loved it. He really, really wanted to do just that, right now. In fact, the knife was within arm reach at this very moment! He could just reach over, take it without that dumb oaf noticing anything, and gently nail his flapping jaw to his head, the angle was just right…

"Well, you're having fun I see," came a sudden voice. All three thieves whirled toward the source; he stood nonchalantly near the front door of their hideout, crimson eyes glittering merrily.

"It's about time for you to pay your debt back, don't you think?"

Their _benefactor_.

Homura Nagi.

--

**Akuma-sama's notes: **

Did… Did I finally finish this chapter?

WOOHOO! Party time!

Sorry for the "monster of the week" format again, but couldn't be helped. Hope you enjoyed the way I set it up anyway! ;-)

For HiME instincts, I actually base this on Canon. Namely, Mai. Watch how she acts when she gets her tomoe rings; her body moves on its own to use its features (the shield, the fire whip). Akira just went through the same thing. The physical enhancement thing, I consider semi-Canon; I don't know about you, but I don't think I could do the kind of stunts Midori (university student here, not some Ninja or wild girl) or Nao pull during the series!

Yes, Tokiha Takumi. Yes, Okuzaki Akira. Yes, Tokiha-sensei, Mai and Takumi's mom. She's still alive, and a grade school teacher. Why? 'cuz. You need no more reason than this. Besides, _this_ Tokiha mommy didn't have to jump in the icy river to save Takumi.

Hope you enjoyed it… ;)

Seriously, I hope you did, because that was one seriously long and sometimes tedious fight scene…… There's only so many ways you can describe a big monster walking and someone failing to stop it.

Also, the thieves. I hate them. A lot. They're so damn dumb and lucky they're hard to write.

Hopefully my resolution of the partnership issue won't be having too many people rolling their eyes…

**Japanese notes: **

1 ore: Japanese has more than one word for "I", ore being the most vulgar of all, generally used by men. Women generally use the gender-neutral watashi or the feminine atashi.

2 aniki: Big brother.


	8. Chapter 7: Violet

"_Hello everyone, welcome to Yayoi-chan,_"

"_A__nd_ _Haruka-chan's,_"

"_Lovely Spring Corner!_"

"_How are you all doing? Yayoi-chan's doing just fan~tas~tic! Today's a perfect day to a perfect golden week, so go out already! The sun is so bright and so hot, and the sky, the sky! Haruka-chan, have you ever seen a sky this blue?_"

"_I have, actually._"

"_For real? You're lying._"

"_I'm not lying, I _have _seen a sky this blue before… though it may have been in a picture._"

"_Or a painting, right?_"

"_Oh, that could be. A painting of heaven, maybe?_" Giggling._ "Talking about pictures, I heard e~very museum in the city is having an open doors event today? Is that true, Yayoi-chan?_"

"_You bet! Since today is…_"

Fujino Shizuru sighed, giving an annoyed look—though anyone seeing would have been unable to identify it as such—at the gushing pair of young women in the television screen. Her hands shifted the bookmark among the pages of the _Konno Oyuki_ light novel she'd been half-reading and closed it. The clock in the corner told her it was about time for Natsuki to be up and about, but…

Lying on her stomach on the couch in her black shirt, baggy jeans and dangling bare feet, Kataoka Yumei raised her head to look at her with bored grey eyes.

"You gonna go 'n wake her up?"

Shizuru gave another look at the TV clock, then at the barely visible doorway leading to the kitchen from which Fumi-obaahan and the eldest tenant, Kasumi-han, could be heard preparing breakfast. Right on schedule, the ceiling gave a thump as one of the Imai twins completed their wake-up ritual by falling out of bed.

It would be in Natsuki's best interests to be awakened, by all means, but…

"_Muuuh, Haruka-chan, you're being mean again!_"

"_I'm not, it's the truth—mou! Sergei-kun, you're at the museum right now, right? You can tell her I'm right._"

"_You're not._"

"_That's right, Haruka-chan, I'm at the museum, but unfortunately they don't want to let our camera crew in!_ _" _a pair of reactions, as disappointed as they were exaggerated,_ "All I can tell you is what people can expect to see here today, and to have them go and prove which one of you are right._"

"_It's me, right?_"

"_We'll see! Okay, first in the art wing, we have—_"

…but she'd come home awfully late last night, hadn't she? Shizuru had waited for her until Fumi-obaahan sent her to bed around eleven, and Natsuki _still_ hadn't returned until some time later. Did she really have to wake up so early? Did her partner? What had she been doing, staying up so late?

She glanced at the clock again, her face schooled carefully to conceal her indecision.

"—_and finally, the much awaited revealing of Kobayashi Mitsuo's mural will happen later today in the war memorial room._"

"_Oh! Oh! I know that one! Haruka-chan, do you?_"

"_Umm, that's the room with all the tanks and the planes and the battleships?_"

"_Bzzzt!_ _Wrong! That's where they show the stuff that that expedition picked up from the ruins of Fuuka island a few years ago, isn't that right, Sergei-kun?_"

"_Exactly, Yayoi-chan! Wow, you're right, and Haruka-chan isn't! I guess there's a first time for everything!_"

"_Ah! Hido~~i~~!_" giggle, giggle.

Then, just as she made her decision and reluctantly put her book aside, the younger bluette finally made her entrance from the stairwell, looking like she'd barely slept at all. Her hair was disheveled, her pajamas were messy like she'd spent most of the night turning like a log going downhill, and she stumbled against the wall as she rubbed sleep out of her eyes and mumbled a barely comprehensible "mrnngh".

Shizuru stood, filled with worry. "Natsuki, are you still going today?"

"Nnh?" the younger HiME gave her a querying look, then nodded after a moment. "nn."

"But…" Shizuru hesitated for a second, gathering her thoughts, and tried again: "Are you sure you've slept enough?" She frowned; what she'd really wanted to ask was "what happened last night", yet she found herself unable to voice the question. Natsuki was not a morning person, but this went quite a bit beyond the usual.

"What were ya doin' up that late anyway?" Yumei asked, carelessly not bothering to look before speaking. Her toes drew circles in the air.

Although Natsuki replied nothing but a noncommittal noise, Shizuru guessed that _something_ had happened, asall traces of sleep faded away from the other HiME's eyes at those words. What settled in place was hard focus. Shizuru guessed that the the younger girl's adorably stubborn determination had been given a target, and it took very little guesswork to figure out what exactly was that target.

For an instant, a very, very short instant, Shizuru felt a pang of pity for that group of worthless scum Natsuki and Tanaka-keiji were chasing.

Unusually tight-lipped, Natsuki said nothing during breakfast, except for the inarticulate noises that seemed to have replaced her whole vocabulary. Her eyes lost none of their focus, and when Tanaka-keiji finally arrived to fetch her, Shizuru saw the same hard light in his eyes. The two seemed to speak wordlessly, as if that light was a language no one but them could understand.

Something _had_ happened, that much Shizuru was certain when she came back indoors. She frowned lightly, deliberating with herself for a few moments, then reached a conclusion with a nod to herself.

"Fumi-obaahan, I will be out for most of the day," she announced through the doorway.

It took the startled matron a few seconds to reply. By then, she was already gone.

-

* * *

**My**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**-**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, no sue. **

**-**

**Chapter 7: Violet**

* * *

-

"The forensics department discovered a few more details about the victims overnight," Eriko Ichidouji announced to the small audience (composed of Tanaka

Yuuki, Ishigami Wataru, Kumaji Keitaro, Kuga Natsuki and a handful of officers on Kumaji's staff) sitting in front of her in the briefing room. Standing next to her was a compact middle-aged woman with golden hair tied in a tight bun, whom Ichidouji motioned toward as she continued, "I'll let doctor Tachiki go over them. Doctor?"

The woman nodded, raised her oval-rimmed glasses on her nose and reached for Ichidouji's laptop. The screen erupted to life, revealing the gruesomely mutilated bodies of Amakawa Yuuno and Yuuko. Under the bright white glow of the surgery lights, their skins appeared as white as snow, and the partially carbonized flesh beneath was vividly red.

"First," the doctor began, "I identified the cause of death as general cervical trauma caused by their blood's evaporation. By all evidence, both of them appear to have been partially incinerated from inside, and the blood flow from the struggle wounds I found on Amakawa Yuuko indicated that it was done while she was alive. Yuuno-san shows none of such wounds, but it's likely to have been the same for her."

A grimace ran across the audience's faces.

"Interestingly," the doctor continued, "I found no trace of combustible or any remains of incendiary or explosive device in the victims. Nor did I find any fire starter, not even as much as a match. I would have had to claim they spontaneously incinerated from within if I hadn't found this…" she clicked a button and both images zoomed in, "…near the spinal cord of both victims."

Clearly visible, seared black against pinkish-white bones, danced the flame-like HiME mark.

"I can assure you that this is abnormal," the doctor finished with a roll of her eyes.

"Did you find any evidence linking the bastards to the victims?" Kumaji asked. Ichidouji Eriko was the one to reply,

"There was a fingerprint matching with Ueda Sunao's left major on Amakawa Yuuko's watch. It's them."

"Then," Kumaji declared at the audience, "as it appears the case Ishigami and I were working on and the orphan attacks are connected, and by the Chief's standing orders, I'm taking over this case. Objections?"

There weren't any.

"Good." He didn't sound like he'd been expecting any, either. "In light of the evidence we have, meaning the pair of bodies where two orphans have been used and the matching number of kidnappings, I believe it's safe to assume the thieves somehow need to use sacrifices to call up, or at least control Orphans. I want teams to check the vicinities of the previous attacks to find the missing bodies, and I want to be warned immediately if another girl vanishes. Oh, and please ask Chief Akitori to authorize sending a warning to the population. As much as possible, we want people to go around in groups to make the bastards' job harder."

"Sir," a lieutenant nodded, saluted and turned to leave.

Kumaji glanced at Eriko and the young woman saluted in spite of herself. "Ichidouji, grab all your colleagues. I want you to look at the highway feed recordings for the last few days. Also, on may second, look for a car matching with the description hauling a boat. Yuuki, Princess, you'll help them out; you're on alert today."

Yuuki nodded. A part of him wanted to yell in protest, to ask to be out there as well, but he understood Kumaji's logic; the headquarters was located pretty close to the middle of Minato-ku, making it a perfect staging point to intercept wherever the thieves would attack next, or at least a much better one than randomly patrolling and hoping to land on an attack site (despite the surprising luck that method had had so far). From the look on her face, Kuga didn't look like she was happy about it, either, but her mouth remained shut. She reluctantly nodded as well. The corner of Kumaji's thin mustache twitched, and he opened his mouth to speak again, when—

"Sir!" the exclamation was accompanied by a stream of light from the hallway; it was the same lieutenant from before, wide-eyed and waving a report in his hand like a flag, "they took another one!"

* * *

"Gotta hand it to the bastards," Kuga finally said a few minutes after she and Yuuki got themselves settled for a long (long, long, _long_) day watching cars travel down streets and checking the plates of every black van they saw, "they got guts."

Yuuki made a vaguely agreeing sound, his eyes on the screen, on which was a section of highway he couldn't identify (Tokyo's skyline still confused him). He was tempted to use another word than "guts", but he had to agree that it took a certain twisted courage to kidnap a girl in front of a high-class girl's middle school at seven-forty in the morning, in the middle of the morning rush. It wasn't much of a surprise that word had gotten to the police that quickly, then, nor was their increasing overconfidence out of character for them. What wasn't a surprise, but was rather worrying was exactly how arrogant this indicated they were becoming; clearly, they were so certain of their own invincibility they were willing to do anything. How long would it take them to realize there were much more lucrative ways to make money with their summoning... Technique? Method? They could probably have demanded an insane ransom with reasonable chances of getting it; the police would have a hard time trying to interfere with the threat of having the victim turned into an Orphan and used against them.

They'd stolen a little money, some luxury goods, then a lot of money, and now… now what?

Logic stated that, as they sought economic gain and they'd been so successful last time, they'd try to hit a bank again.

Logic also stated that anyone who pulled heists while wearing clothes like those would get caught within seconds, so he wasn't so sure it applied to this case.

A black Toyota Hiace sped down his screen. He didn't bother looking at the plate number; there was a big tattoo shop ad on the back.

"I just hope we're on time to save her…" Ichidouji's eyes dropped and a sigh flowed between her lips. "Those poor girls…"

"We'll just bust it out of their faces when they're caught," Kuga growled, sounding remarkably like her Child at that moment (and remarkably _little_ like the child she only looked like). "Nothing we can do 'bout the dead ones now."

Ichidouji gave her an uneasy look, but nodded tentatively. Yuuki couldn't help but frown, wondering if he really _couldn't_ have done a thing to save them. Maybe if he'd have taken them more seriously, if he'd focused a bit more on catching them than on Kuga and keeping his job… Hell, he hadn't even considered taking so many of the station's resources on this case, even after the Chief had given it first priority.

And as a result, at least four little girls were dead now, and a fifth one was in danger. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't a little no-name detective in a small town anymore, damnit!

"AH!" Ichidouji suddenly noised, fumbling with her screen's remote control. "I think—Yeah, here it is! That's them!"

Yuuki froze his screen (freezing the long-haired woman sitting on a lonely overspeeding motorcycle) to look over. Sure enough, it was them, on May second, at 3:07 in the afternoon, going south on the 316th's upper lane. Natsuki reached to look from the other side; standing behind Ichidouji, her chin barely reached over the woman's shoulder.

Ichidouji unfroze the image. The car resumed its way, swinging down traffic with complete disregard for the other drivers (who couldn't see it to complain anyway; it was a miracle (shame?) that they hadn't wound up in an accident yet). Before vanishing from view, it took the next exit left.

"Where is that going?" Yuuki asked.

"There's only one thing that way, and that's the rainbow bridge," she replied.

"'goes to Odaiba," Natsuki added for his benefit, which he responded to with a grateful nod. "The chopper flew over it a few dozen times already and didn't find crap, though." Ichidouji shot her a scolding look, which she pointedly ignored.

"It also goes to Koto-ku," the blonde researcher pointed out, "that's technically outside our jurisdiction, but it shouldn't be a problem—you'd need to tell the Chief where you went and what you did afterward."

"I see," he hummed. It was nice to know red-tape wouldn't get in the way, at least. "Can you give me the feed on the other end of the bridge?"

"Ah... yes, it's on this screen—hold on, let me just..."

Once he had the feed in front of him, finding the thieves' car again had been a matter of fast-forwarding to the right time. The bridge apparently led to a T-shaped interchange, which the thieves' car took to head southwest.

"It's Odaiba," Natsuki, who'd been looking over his shoulder the whole time, chirped while pointing. Her finger left an incriminating print on the screen.

"There aren't any cameras looking further down that way," Said Ichidouji, crossing her arms under her ample bosom.

"I see," Yuuki repeated, frowning thoughtfully. One of his hands fished in his pocket and grabbed his notebook.

May second was the very day the boat had disappeared from its parking area, and the timing meant that this was a very, very short time afterward.

None of the abductions or attacks had occurred in Odaiba. None of the abductions had occurred at that time, either. _That_ had happened... uh... Friday and Saturday, April 28th and 29th respectively, but the first attack hadn't happened until a day after, on April 30th (why had they kidnapped two? Enigma one), with the second happening the next day, on May First. The next day, Tokiichi's boat goes missing (why did they take it in the first place? Why then and not at the start? Enigma two), and their car gets spotted going down to Odaiba… without their boat.

The day after, they take the twins, to summon two orphans at them the next day, yesterday, where their car _was_ at the site of the attack.

Considering they had a stealthed van to hide into, Yuuki's initial deduction had been that they'd remained in hiding somewhere _inside_ the van, but these thieves were unusual in many ways; far from fearing the police, they instead saw themselves as some kind of supervillains (if the costume and the way Ueda Tetsuo had referred to him meant anything), and supervillains didn't camp out in stealthed vans, no. They always had those big visible hideouts where they had their climatic battle against the superheroes (here his mind derailed when a picture of Kuga wearing Batman's (well, woman's) costume and posing on top of a building assaulted his brain).

The scary thing is that he could see it happen.

He made a mental note that he looked awful as Robin.

He shook his head and scolded himself. Following that train of thought (the thieves, not Superheroine thirteen years olds and their sidekicks), what made sense was that their hideout was in Odaiba; most likely, someone else was driving the boat to wherever their hideout was at the very moment, with the car probably carrying mooring supplies, or…

Well, he was drawing a blank. It made very little sense for the car to be going down that way, but then actions that made very little sense made sense with these thieves, if that made any sense.

He felt an ache starting to grow between his temples.

So anyway. Their hideout had to be big, somewhere that could be reached both with a car and by boat, and was most likely deserted otherwise they would have been spotted a long time ago. That meant it had to be…

…yes, it couldn't really me anything else, could it?

"Fast forward a bit," he told Ichidouji, "try to catch them on the way back. I need to give a call to Kumaji."

"Hm?" Kuga voiced up, "What'cha got?"

He told her. She blinked, then slapped her forehead.

"I feel stupid."

* * *

Accessible by road and boat, highly visible yet completely deserted and mostly isolated. There was indeed such a place in Odaiba.

Back in the nineteen-fifties, during a peak of Orphan hysteria, a set of highly armored warehouses had been built near the southern end of the artificial island to reassure merchants that their cargo would be safe from even the most powerful attacks. Unfortunately, hurried plans with more intent toward public relations than usefulness had led to a shoddy construction that, while incredibly solid, was unfortunately impractical for freight handling, and as a result the warehouses saw practically no service until their retirement in early nineteen-eighty. Only two warehouses had remained standing by nineteen-eighty-four when the population of Odaiba had used them as cover during Princess Week, after which too many people owed gratitude to the old buildings for the deconstruction to continue; the protests had been so intense and mediatized that even he, the hick from the woods, so to speak, had heard about them.

Hence, there were two very big, very tough and also very abandoned building sitting near the coast, with access to the sea wide enough to welcome a whole freighter, never mind a private recreational trawler; the ideal kind of place for their supervillainous thieves to hide into.

"I don't think it's very likely," Kumaji replied after Yuuki had told his thoughts, "but it's worth checking out. Come, and bring Princess with you."

And so, just ten minutes later, he and Kuga were aboard a squad car speeding down the highway with sirens blaring. There was a relative silence in the vehicle, but it wasn't uncomfortable at all; he was far too busy focusing on the road, and she… well, he really focused too hard on the road to look at her. She could have been making rude gestures at passersby and he wouldn't have noticed.

About halfway there, the radio crackled to life, and Ichidouji's voice came through.

"_Station to Tanuki, do you copy?"_

He gave a quick look at his partner, who nodded and reached for the radio with a small hand.

"Princess here," she replied, then a second later added "ten-two" for "Good reception" as an afterthought.

_So she referred to herself as that?_

And wait, since when was he fine with that ridiculous nickname?

"_I found the time they left Odaiba, it was the day after, around thirteen hours." _

"Understood," Yuuki replied in thin air. From the timing, that had to be around the time they'd gone out to abduct the twins_._

"Got it," Kuga replied in the radio, giving him a playful look. He snorted silently. Cheeky brat.

"_We're looking ahead to see when they returned,"_ Ichidouji continued._ "I should be back in a few minutes with more intel, over."_

He gave Kuga a nod.

"Ten-four," the young girl replied in his stead, then reached again to hang the transmitter on the dashboard.

It remained silent until the car stopped next to Kumaji and Ishigami's, who hadn't been waiting long.

* * *

The hulking frames of the gigantic armored warehouses dominated the southernmost point of Odaiba and were indeed visible from pretty much everywhere around Tokyo Bay, but it was only when standing right next to them, or at least close enough to throw a rock at them, that their sheer size could be properly registered. Built to protect massive cargo boats from supernatural levels of abuse, each were several hundred meters long and stood twice as tall as the neighboring container piles, themselves impressive. Their metal and concrete walls, although barely more than a decade old, had not taken well to the environmental abuse of Tokyo bay and the criminal activities of Odaiba's low-lives; their walls were chipped and cracked in many places and despite the security guards and the fence surrounding their land-accessible areas, a psychedelic coat of graffiti, two or three layers thick in places, covered them nearly completely.

A few, usually the biggest, were colorful gang tags, but the vast majority were messages, and considering the nature of the memories associated with the buildings, Yuuki found it a better idea to walk between them and Natsuki, lest the little girl explode in a fit of righteous anger.

Except the sea, the only way to access the buildings was through a claustrophobic street, a "one and a half"-way turned two-way simply because there wasn't enough room to build another road going in the other direction. The street would have usually led directly to a short pier and a cold bath to a careless and hopelessly lost driver, but today...

"What the hell's going on?" Natsuki asked.

...today, the street was blocked around mid-way through the second warehouse by a large, bustling crowd. The ordinarily dreary street had been livened up by colorful garlands hanging from the lamp posts. Several tents had been put up on the unkempt grounds and a handful of workers were busily doing their best to wipe away the graffiti with a high-pressure water jet. A hanging flag told him what the crowd was about.

Right, it was that time of the year, wasn't it? Princess Week Memorial... evidently, this year, the organizers had decided to start the parade here.

He glanced down at Natsuki, who was staring at the preparations with a decidedly unfriendly eye. Right, better expedite things, then.

A young woman wearing a yellow hoodie with the sleeves pulled high above her elbows walked up to them, a curious glint in her eyes.

"Ah, hello, may I help you?" she asked with a very thin accent he couldn't identity and a tired but excited wheeze in her voice. Her brown skin was glinting with sweat. "If it's about the noise, we're already doing our best to—oh, sorry, I'm Katou Miyako, the organizer—well, one of them, anyway. I'm in charge of down here all the way to the Statue of Courage—you know, where Yuuki Hanako was sh--"

"Ah, yes, yes, thank you," Yuuki interrupted before the apparently nervous, excited and endorphin-doped woman could say something that would trigger a Kuga explosion (there were little sparks floating around the girl's hands, although no one else seemed to have noticed). "Thank you, but we're not actually here for the parade... did you notice anything unusual around here lately?"

"Within the last week or so?" Ishigami added.

"Ah... I'm afraid I can't help you there," she replied with a shrug. "We've only been here for three days, and I've been so busy setting everything up that I just don't have time to--"

"Wait, three days?" Yuuki interrupted.

"Y~es?" the woman answered in a confused drawl, "well, more like four days, but we only put the material here and had a look around on the first day... like I was about to say, the security guards can probably tell you more; wouldn't rely on them too much, though," she added with a glance at the graffiti-plastered walls, "looks like they've been sleeping on the job. It'll take forever to get all this shi—er, stuff," she added with a glance at Kuga, "off the wall."

"I see," Yuuki replied. "Just in case, you wouldn't happen to have a HiME in your crew, would you?" It was highly unlikely they'd have seen anything of value without one, unless someone happened to have a camera handy.

In response, the young woman shot him a flat look. "Of course not." From her tone, it was obvious she now thought he was an idiot.

"I see. Thank you, Katou-han. "

Thus excused, the young woman returned to the crowd. Yuuki turned to his colleagues and partner.

"Well, that explains the boat. They must have settled themselves in those," he motioned at the warehouses with his thumb, "only to get surprised when all of a sudden _they_," another gesture, this time at the construction workers, "suddenly show up and their little hideout isn't so hidden anymore. The timing matches."

Kumaji frowned. "You're assuming they were in here in the first place. Why would they have holed themselves in there when they have a car that can turn invisible? It makes no sense."

"It makes sense," Yuuki retorted, "because they're supervillains. In their heads, anyway—besides, there's one easy way to make sure. Let's check inside, shall we?"

Kumaji looked at him for a few seconds, then made a noncommittal grunt.

The security guard in place was an old officer close to retirement who spoke slowly, walked slowly and had a loving light in his eyes whenever he gazed at the dilapidated buildings he was failing to look after. After answering their questions, essentially the same the manager had been asked, with similarly negative answers, he unlocked the entrance door of the southernmost building with a grunt of exertion; the lock had remained essentially untouched for many years and was in great need of oil.

"You don't check inside?" Kumaji rumbled as the older man led them through a claustrophobically tight passageway that ran alongside the wall for a few dozen meters.

"This is the only door, except the garage gates, and those are still sealed with the same concrete from back then," he explained. Anyone going in would have had to go through me."

"What about through Tokyo Bay?" Yuuki asked.

"Sealed too," the old man replied, then grinned. "Well, you'll see. It's right beyond this door..." another bout of struggling later, the door was open and the four policemen walked in the main room, Natsuki trailing behind.

Yuuki made an appreciative whistle as he got his first real look at the warehouse's insides. The first thing that got to him was the ceiling; in all honesty, he couldn't recall having ever seen a bigger, wider or taller ceiling. Massive rail-mounted cranes, at one time used to unload or load docked ships, were now useless, salvaged of their usable parts and solidly secured to the roof by thick steel cables. The next thing he noticed were the huge engine-powered winders; apparently too unwieldy, the devices originally used to tug the ships out of the sea and secure them inside had been stripped of their useful parts (such as the engine and the cable) and left to rust along the ledge of the pier.

Barely visible in the dark of the room's far end where sunlight couldn't reach was the reason why the old man had been sure no one would enter through Tokyo Bay; the entire wall was made of huge metal panels like some horribly oversized pair of sliding doors. Final point of interest, and more interestingly, were the three garage doors on the far right wall; it was easy to tell that _they_ had been the main reason for the warehouse's abandonment. They were barely wide enough for a truck to drive through, and just thinking of how long it must have taken to load or unload the several hundred containers a cargo typically carried made him shake his head in disbelief. Just as the officer had said, they had been, at one point, blocked away, but...

"Sealed with concrete, huh?" Kumaji rumbled.

Because, indeed, to the surprise of the old security officer, one of the garage doors was most certainly _not_ sealed. From the pile of materials around it, it seemed like someone had used raw strength and a pic-axe—ah, and there was one right there, on top of the pile—to clear it off. Yuuki reached over to one of the sealed doors and touched the "concrete"; it was brittle and weak, and an entire chunk remained in his hand when pulled away.

"Whoever made this concrete did the worst job ever," he noted.

"W—Well, it happened during _that_ time," the old man protested, visibly shocked. "The materials... we worked with what we had, it—it was solid back then, really solid! How could I—"

"Hm. That's something, I suppose, "Kumaji replied, ignoring the blabbering, "but it doesn't mean our thieves were here. There's no way they could have opened those doors to hide their boat inside."

"Haah?" Kuga, forgotten in all this, suddenly made a startled noise and stared at Kumaji oddly. "Uh, they're open."

"What?" Yuuki wasn't sure if it was he or Kumaji who spoke first; he looked at the doors and saw them all closed.

"They are!" Kuga insisted. "Well, that one on the far right is, anyway—how else would we be seeing anything? It's not like there are any lights or windows in here..."

And suddenly, he realized s_he was [b]__**right**__[/b]!_ There were absolutely no windows, as expected of a glorified bunker, and what lights he could see were dead as doornails without electricity, yet the entire warehouse was bathed with the mid-day sun's light. Even then, however, when he looked at the far wall, he _still_ couldn't see it.

"Do you see anything else? Anything unusual?" Yuuki pressed on, then turned toward the old man, "could you bring a camera in here? Please?"

The old man nodded and left as quickly as his tired legs would let him. Kuga, meanwhile, had taken to look around, pointing at whatever she could see—most of which he could see as well, but then...

"...the ropes here next to the book, and the box over here," she pointed at something right next to her... where he could see nothing but the concrete floor. He and Kumaji both reacted at the same.

"Open it," they chorused.

"Huh?" Kuga blinked. "You mean you don't see that one either? But you," he pointed at Yuuki, "just walked around it, so I thought... uh... right. I'll just... get on with the opening of stuff now..."

And she reached over in mid-air, grabbed something—

because _suddenly there [b]__**was**__[/b] something_ where he could have sworn there hadn't been before—and sure enough, he realized he'd been walking right into it and had _somehow_ avoided something he couldn't even _see_.

"How the hell are they _doing_ that?" Ishigami hissed. "It's just not normal."

How indeed... it wasn't invisibility, since no amount of invisibility could hide a door being _open_... It looked like some kind of notice-me-not spell...

He cut himself off there. _THAT_ would imply magic, which would open a whole new can of worms he didn't feel comfortable with. He was already afraid of what his report would look like; better to assume it was some kind of doohickey with whatever Orphans were made of.

It was a big box of wood painted in white which he felt should recognize, but the nature of which escaped him at the moment. The cover was apparently too heavy for the little girl, but now that Kumaji could see it, he wasted no time in reaching over to pull it open. Belatedly, Yuuki realized this was a fish box, where a fisherman could store his catches.

There were garbage bags inside.

And inside those damnably familiar garbage bags was money. Lots and lots of money, every bill of it stolen less than twenty-four hours prior.

"...well I'll be damned," Kumaji sighed. "Looks like you were right, kid."

Yuuki probably shouldn't have felt as proud as he did.

"Still," Kumaji continued with a glance across the abandoned vastness of the room, "that still doesn't tell us where they _are_."

Yuuki deflated a bit, then grudgingly admitted so with a nod.

"We know they were in Takanawa less than two hours ago," Ishigami spoke. "Maybe they got caught in traffic?"

Kumaji made a bear-like grunt. "We didn't, so why should they? Even though this is a Friday morning, this is Golden Week. So many people are taking their breaks around this time you'd have to look for a traffic jam to find one."

"So they should have had more than enough time to get here, then?" A nod from a somewhat sheepish Ishigami was Yuuki's reply; he made a mental note to learn Tokyo's topography as soon as possible. "Then there's two possibilities. A: they came here and left already, or B: they're still out there."

"Why would they have come back?" Ishigami asked.

"Every other time, there was at least twelve hours between the kidnapping and the actual attack. I don't know why they would, but I'm pretty sure they came back here every time."

"You're assuming again," Kumaji warned, but Yuuki shook his head.

"I'm not. It makes sense if you try to think how they do; they're supervillains, right? I know it sounds silly," he added quickly, raising his hand against Kumaji's interjection, "but following that line of thought led us here. They came back in their super-secret hideout to plan out their nefarious plans every time."

"What, they went back here and planned to attack a fruit shop?" Kumaji snorted.

"It wasn't the fruit shop they wanted, it was the jewelry in front of it. And they did just that the second time."

"But their van is _invisible_," Ishigami interrupted. "It's a hell of a lot easier to hide into than _this_," he waved his arms at the gigantic warehouse's volume.

"Ah, but they're _supervillains_," Yuuki emphasized. "What kind of supervillain camps out in a van instead of a giant evil fortress in the middle of nowhere?"

"That makes no sense," Kumaji grunted.

Yuuki shrugged. "I know. That's why it makes sense."

"Well, it'd explain this, anyway," Kuga, forgotten in the discussion, suddenly cut into Kumaji's most likely scathing answer, and the three officers turned her way. The young girl was kneeling next to the book on the floor which she'd opened, and which the rows upon rows of names and numbers identified as a directory. The page Kuga had turned to had been earmarked by folding three full pages in halves. "These are all jewelries, and there's their addresses on them..." She made a pensive hum while Yuuki moved closer, peering over her shoulder. "It _kinda_ looks like there's a bump here... see?" she pointed, and he had to kneel next to her to notice.

Indeed there was, so minute he would have overlooked it; something thin but not sharp had hit the page just over the name of a shop apparently built on Kashiwagi street. Frowning, Yuuki took a quick glance in his notebook; the first attack had occurred there.

Come to think about it, that bump was about the right size to be one of Ueda's throwing cards...

Kuga wasn't done, though. "And then there's this," She reached next to the book and grabbed the ropes—taking care to hide her hands in the sleeves of her hoodie first, Yuuki noticed with a touch of surprise; perhaps he _should_ have expected her to know how not to damage a crime scene—then held them to him.

"This is a warehouse, and a dock. Of course there'd be ropes." Ishigami told her gently before Yuuki could, but there was something distinctly condescending in the way he shook his head at her.

Far from growing angry, the girl raised a blue eyebrow. "A rope this thin? Plus, it's a hell of a lot newer than anything else in here."

Once again, he realized she was right, and as he took it in his hands, he realized the rope was actually made of natural fiber. In a cold, dark and damp environment like this, this rope should have fallen to rot a long time ago. There was simply no way this rope could have remained here for fifteen years. He raised an eyebrow, impressed, and spotted an appreciative nod from Kumaji in the corner of his eye.

"Plus, it doesn't smell like them," Kuga concluded. At Yuuki's confused look, she clarified, "my nose isn't as good as Durhan's and this place _reeks_, but I kinda doubt any of the bastards use floral shampoo, if they've even approached a shower in the last week or so."

Kumaji rolled his eyes. "Alright. Let's pretend you're right, kid. If they come here every time and play patty-cakes for half-a-day every time before hitting their targets, then why aren't they here now?"

That was actually a good question. They had their victim, and their MO should have brought them back here so they'd start planning their next move. If they hadn't come here, then that meant...

That meant their next move _was already planned. _If that was the case, then that they weren't here meant...

"...shit." He turned to Kuga. "We need to get back to station _now_."

They didn't make it.

* * *

"Hm... well, it's good enough. It'll make a nice ending for the visitors—a final bang to close the show, if you get what I mean."

Yamato Yukito, better known as his painter's pseudonym Kobayashi Mitsuo, did not like the curator. He didn't like the man's face, he didn't like the man's voice, he didn't like the way the man chuckled to his own joke—a joke that was, considering the subject, in horrible taste, in Yukito's opinion. Mostly, though, he didn't like the man's arrogance; he walked among the halls of "his" museum—financed from public funds—while sprouting his high-handed, faux-connoisseur judgment of "his" showpieces regardless of who was listening (visitors excluded, of course).

At sixty-two years old, Yukito was on his last legs and anyone with eyes could tell. His hair had started receding years ago and what strands of it continued fighting their inescapable fate formed discrete, sickly tufts on his temples which only seemed to enhance his situation. His breathing was labored, but he held it strong by sheer force of will, just like he'd survived to his terminal lung cancer for all this time.

Yukito was dying. Some might be sad, but in his mind, he was really just rejoining his island of birth, the land of Fuuka; he would die from the same thing that had murdered everyone he'd known prior to the age of eight; it had only taken him longer than them. This was to be his tribute, his way of forcing people to remember them before he left this world. The fresco might have taken only a few months to complete, but in reality it was the culmination of his life.

And this _idiot_ was treating it like a doodle on the wall. The thought was maddening! And as for how much money said idiot would be making off exposing what possessions they'd brought back from the ruins of his friends and neighbors' homes, the thought was forcefully shoved down lest he became tempted to grab the nearest remotely pointed object to insert it in his fool's eyes. It wasn't like the display paid any kind of respect to the victims, either; the torii that had once stood over the entrance of the island's only temple had been taken—cut off at the base with a chainsaw—and given a fresh coat of paint, complete with a handful of tasteless ofuda, to make it bright, shiny and eye-catching. Yukito had no doubt that it had been as blackened as everything else on the island.

"I'm glad you like it, sir," Yukito replied with deliberate diplomacy.

"Well, 'like' is a big word," the idiot replied flippantly with gestured commas, giving a critical lookover at his work. "It could have gone with brighter colors, not all this black and gray. Maybe a flame or two?"

_'What, do you know what a mushroom cloud looks like better than I do?'_ he was tempted to speak out loud, but held it in.

"And the bottom is... well, I thought it was supposed to represent the nuclear strike at Fuuka? Shouldn't there have been an island at the bottom?"

'_There is; under the smoke!_' "I thought I'd go with a more symbolic representation," is what he said either, lying liberally. "This room is like Fuuka itself, and the mushroom cloud at the end... see?"

The man made an impressed sound. "That's an interesting way to see it. Very interesting... though you really should have suggested it to me before now; the effect you wanted just doesn't come through, but that's where a bit of clever scene play comes in handy, right?" the man chuckled, and Yukito felt a bit like he was standing in front of an incoming train.

"Yes... yes, let's put the model of the village right here, in front of all that smoke. That will make a nice closing statement. Perfect! I didn't like it that much near the entrance, you know... too much niceness to start with. This way will have a much better impact!"

Yukito, or was that the curator, found himself rescued when a panic erupted from the front of the building.

* * *

A pair of calm, elegant crimson eyes narrowed.

Sandal-clad feet left the street.

* * *

"A museum?!"

"_Yes. The Metropolitan Historical Museum, in fact. Get there ASAP; the on-site reports we're getting are pretty bad, and there's no saying how much irreparable damage that thing can cause."_

"Alright. Ten-four." Yuuki put down the radio set at the same time Kuga reached over and flicked the siren switch.

A museum? What?

In her seat, Natsuki grit her teeth and clenched her fists.

_They'd been too late again._

* * *

The Orphan was one of those medium-big ones, noted Natsuki as the patrol car came upon the devastated scene and the monster came into her view. It stood about one and a half stories tall on two hoofed legs, swinging oversized arms tipped with ugly mace-like protrusions and a similarly tipped tail with every ungainly step. Its head, almost imperceptible between its overblown shoulders, was that of a worm, a hole like a chimney filled with serrated teeth from which erupted a constant gargling making up most of its volume. The whole thing was covered by a puce-colored leathery skin which glittered with a slimy sheen.

By luck, their heading had put them within only minutes of arriving to the scene, but even then the damage it had caused to the avenue in front of the museum was considerable; it was probably only a matter of luck that it hadn't tried to get in the building itself. The pavement was cracked at multiple places and littered with potholes the size of manholes. Several stores had found their fronts shattered, and a few had even collapsed on themselves. Abandoned cars were smashed, flipped, some were burning while others were screaming their alarms futilely. A handful of lampposts had been uprooted, and even as she disembarked from the patrol car, she saw it smash a massive fist into another, snapping the screws holding it to the concrete like twigs and sending the massive pole flying off in the air to crash into a deserted bus.

And that's about the time Natsuki noticed the bodies. A man, lying broken near the entrance of the museum. A woman's skirt-clad legs, immobile while the rest of her lied crushed under a car. Another man, this one wrapped around a lamp post.

_A girl, just a year or two younger than her, burned inside-out somewhere, murdered to bring that [b]__**thing**__ here..._

"DURHAN!" she yelled, and felt her righteous anger mirrored in her Child's mind as he materialized. First, she'd kill that thing, and then she'd make the bastards regret ever being fucking born, she decided. She gave a sideway glance at Tanaka; the officer was looking at her questioningly.

She shook her head and glanced at the museum.

'_I won't need help. Get the fuckers._'

He nodded and, without even glancing at the monster, ran straight for the museum. She turned her attention back to the monster, which had just grabbed a lamp post and was tentatively sliding it down its gullet. It looked like one of those dumb types, so maybe if...

"Do you mind very much if I take care of this, Natsuki?" came a sophisticated, calm, and in fact cheerful voice from behind.

She recognized her before even turning around. "Shizuru? What on earth are you doing here?"

"I was doing groceries for Fumi-obaahan when I heard the disturbance," explained the older(barely!) girl, dressed in the same brown yukata as this morning and a crimson cardigan over her shoulders, gave her one of those infuriatingly imperturbable smiles. She brandished a plastic bag from which a handful of spring onions stuck out as evidence, but even then Natsuki was pretty sure she was lying.

"Won't Tanaka-keiji need your help?" she continued, and Natsuki hesitated

"Ah... well... um..." he would, she was pretty sure. She gave a glance at the monster, which had discarded the lamp post and was now trying to eat a block of concrete. She wanted to _hurt_ it. The urge was overwhelming. But the bastards...

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Shizuru's hand gently touched her shoulder, as it was only because she was used to the other girl's idea of skinship that she didn't at the feeling of her other hand caressing her side.

"Aren't those responsible for this a better target for Natsuki's wrath?" the girl asked, her smile never breaking. "Don't worry, I'll make this as unpleasant for this beast as possible."

Natsuki froze, glanced at the monster again—it seemed to have noticed them just now—then at the museum doors... and made her decision.

"Please." And, breaking out of the other girl's loose hold, she ran for the museum, Child following loyally.

Shizuru watched her leave for a moment, enjoying the warmth in her chest the younger HiME never failed to raise within her. Then, her crimson eyes turned toward the otherworldly beast. Her smile never fell, even as a blood-colored naginata materialized in her hands.

"Now then. Shall we teach this one some manners, Kyohime?"

In the depth of her shadow, several sets of golden eyes shimmered with gleeful malevolence...

The beast gargled a challenge...

...and all around them, the shadows _answered..._

* * *

A museum.

It made _no sense_, Yuuki decided as he stalked silently among one of the museum's deserted showrooms. With a glance at a painting of some old feudal lord he didn't recognize, he mused that there was plenty to steal, if one was really willing to get caught, but there was no money to be made hitting a museum, unless one had a buyer. And these thieves didn't, as far as he knew. Amateurs they might have been, but even they had to know a museum's security measures were intended on keeping thieves _in_, not out. It didn't escape him that this was a golden chance to catch them; if they made so much as a single mistake, the cage would close behind them, and without a victim to sacrifice, they couldn't spring an Orphan on him; they'd be trapped and at his mercy.

...That is, unless they violated the laws of physics again and broke another bulletproof window with a plastic chair.

His handgun felt heavy on his belt; maybe he should just shoot and claim it'd been self-defense, and damn the cameras—

[b]**Thump![/b]**

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. What was th—

[b]**Thump!![/b]**

The sound came again, this time with something that sounded like a shout of pain. He grinned as he realized he _knew_ that voice; it was Sunao Ueda. They were nearby! But which way? The museum was a bit like a maze; most rooms had access to two or three hallways or staircases, which led to more rooms and more hallways. Complicating things were that the damn rooms were so cavernous that there reigned a powerful echo, which made tracking them by sound just about impossible. This room was no different; excluding the path behind him, there was a single staircase on the left wall, a single hallway on the wall in front, and two on the right wall, one of which was sealed to visitors; the sign dangling from the thick cable claimed it was for a new exhibit, something about the ruins of Fuuka.

Hm. They'd hit something, twice, and strong enough for the imposing man that was Sunao Ueda to hurt himself. He would have guessed they'd tried to force a door, but it hadn't sounded like any door he'd ever seen... maybe one of the glass panes covering the smaller exhibits? But something like that would have been guaranteed to trigger the alarms, unless... unless...

..._unless security measures hadn't been set in place yet!_

Tentatively following his deduction as being his best guess, he drew his gun and slipped under the rope.

The voices up ahead became clearer. He grinned.

* * *

The first thing Natsuki did after bursting through the museum doors on wolfback was order Durhan to find Tanaka's trail. A few whiffs later, though, she revised that order; on top of the panicked smells of the already dispersed crowd—where had they escaped to? The Orphan was blocking the front door... a back door somewhere?—and alongside the now familiar scent of Yuuki were three highly recognizable stenches; the bastards were in here, somewhere.

Judging that she'd either end up saving Tanaka's ass or getting first crack at the thieves (the thought of which brought a brutal grin to her young face), she ordered Durhan to follow their trail instead which, sensing her own bloodlust and taking it as his own, he did gladly. Tracking them proved to be very easy; the three hadn't so much as touched a shower in some time, which made following them by smell a simple, if unpleasant, experience.

The trail was confused and serpentine, as if they themselves hadn't been sure of where they had been going. It walked right through a room full of jewels—she couldn't quite read the kanji, but apparently they'd belonged to some lady in the twelve hundreds (or at least, she assumed it was a lady)—took a wide turn around a samurai armor in the next room, turned round and round in the war-era section's medal displays, tried its luck opening the locked door to one of the storage rooms and failed, then crossed a rope blocking the way to a new exhibit.

That's around the time she heard their voices. She grinned.

* * *

All things considered, Blade was having a lot of fun. Who knew life as a supervillain could be so great? Although he would have preferred to be a superhero like Spiderman or Superman, or a good bad guy like Deadpool or Gambit (kinda), but the problem was that there were no other supervillains to fight, and ordinary crime was just too hard to find (not to mention boring) to make a superhero career out of. Either way, though, the real thing was so much better than the comics or the movies! Even if he wanted a shower, and the food wasn't that great, and the girls kicked sometimes and it _hurt_, it was still a lot better than spending their time going through his collection over and over while pressing the little button with the red circle and the other button with black square like aniki wanted him to (though that was fun too, in its own way). What aniki did with the cassettes after he was done watching, he didn't know, but he trusted aniki, because aniki was smart.

But not as smart as Beru-kun, though, Ueda "Blade" Sunao thought with an outward chuckle that went ignored by both of his companions in crime. Beru-kun was a _university graduate_! That meant he was really smart. He'd also made a lot of things, like make the Dark Roller invisible to people, and the Dark Floater invisible too, and hid the door of the Dark Hideout, and gave him this really nice knife which made their hostages—the word made him chuckle again—burn and called up a Orphans. And he'd made all that just from reading part of the book the scary boy with the eyes had given aniki, too!

Blade didn't like the scary boy. Blade knew he wasn't very smart, but he could tell when people were looking down on him, and it made him angry. And the little boy was looking down on _all_ of them _all the time_, even Beru-kun and aniki. That made him angry, and when he was angry, Blade liked to cut things. But he couldn't cut the scary boy, because the boy was scary and had _the eyes_. Just thinking about the eyes made him scared, and that made him angry, because he didn't like to be scared.

But scaring people was a lot of fun, though!

"Oh, shut up already." That was Beru-kun. He was really smart, but he complained a lot. And right now, he was using a weird tool the scary kid had given them to try and cut a hole in the glass Blade had tried to break open just a few minutes earlier.

His hand still hurt. That glass was really hard.

"Aniki and I weren't talking," Blade replied plaintively.

"You were chortling and whining to yourself like an imbecile. If you—"

"Oi, Berzelius. Watch what you call my little brother."

"...Yes. Whatever. I apologize. Now if you would both be quiet, I need my concentrati—"

"FREEZE!" the bellow nearly scared Blade out of his wits.

"Oh, what now—oh. [b]**Oh.**[/b]" That was Beru-kun.

"Damnit." That was aniki.

Blade looked. There was a _police officer_ in the back entrance! But this one didn't have a big scary rifle; he had just an ordinary handgun, so he couldn't be a superhero, which meant he wasn't dangerous.

"Yes, freeze. Literally." THAT had come from behind! Blade turned again, and—

It was a little girl... and she was riding a really big metal wolf with really, really _big_ guns on its back. SHE had to be a superhero!

The girl took a few steps forward, walking under the big red gate at the entrance like in front of temples...

And that's when things went, in Ueda Sunao's own words, really wonky weird.

* * *

The first warning Natsuki had that something was wrong was a sharp, powerful _stabbing_ pain on her side as soon as she crossed the torii. Later, she would intellectually realize that the pain had burst from her mark to spread over the rest of her body like lightning, but at the time, the only thing she realized was that she _hurt_.

The second thing she realized was that Durhan was howling in similar agony...

And the third thing she realized, with shock, was that she _couldn't __feel__ his thoughts anymore_.

There was a sound, like shattering glass, as her fingers clenched around her suddenly fragile gun and broke it into insubstantial shards. There was another sound, like water being rapidly frozen, and Durhan stopped howling.

Natsuki felt it happening more than she saw it. First, the steadying arm she'd kept around his back cannon suddenly tightened further as the pressure became enough to crack the suddenly frail metal. Then her balance _lurched_ as Durhan's front legs collapsed under their weight, quickly followed by his hind legs.

Then there was a loud crack, and suddenly Natsuki was falling _through_ his empty, broken back as her Child fell apart like a castle of cards, becoming countless shards of ice and metal.

She felt no pain. She felt no terror. She felt something that was so far past horror it couldn't be described. She reached for a part of her brave, loyal and beloved Child's muzzle and felt it break in her hand, the shards shrinking and becoming as insubstantial as mist...

Her scream—was she screaming?—was cut off when she was roughly yanked off her knees. Someone yelled something, right next to her ear. She didn't understand it. She saw Tanaka yell something. His gun was pointed at her. Was he going to shoot her? Shouldn't she be afraid? A kind of emotionless mist was shrouding her mind; it wasn't quite shock. She knew shock; she'd seen and felt it herself and had been told what it was. This was worse, a kind of blanket which left her mind confused and focused upon the most irrelevant thing... such as the nature of the blanket itself.

Tanaka was slowly lowering his gun.

Something thin was pressing against her throat. Someone was shouting in her ear again. It hurt.

She frowned.

It hurt.

She didn't like that.

Who was grabbing her? Tanaka was lowering his gun. He was in front of her. It couldn't be him. The only other people here were the thieves...

...so it had to be them.

Something thin was _pressing_ against her throat.

A blade? She was being held hostage?

Her reaction came from instinct more than thought.

_She_ was being held hostage? _Her_?! Those fools had no idea what they were dealing with.

She willed for her guns. Her hands remained empty. She reached again. Same result. Her nose felt numb. Her ears dull. The hand around her body felt impossibly strong. She struggled against it anyway; it held. Even Kumaji's arms hadn't been this immovable.

And that's when the realization finally ran through her dulled, shell-shocked mind that _she didn't have her powers_.

Incensed by her struggle, her captor pressed the blade into her throat again. She winced as her air was tightened and relented, and to her relief the blade's pressure lessened. She was jostled as the man grabbing her—she recognized the dirty cloak covering his arm now; this was the Kaito Kid wannabe, Ueda Tetsuo. His breath ran on her ear like a warm fish. The stench floated in her nostrils and, for the first time, she felt _glad_ her HiME enhancements seemed to be gone.

Tetsuo yelled again. Something about a gun? His voice was shaking a bit; was it excitement? Nervousness? Both?

The blade pressed against her throat again. It hurt; it choked her, instead of cutting. Awfully dull, wasn't it?

In front of them, Tanaka looked like he had swallowed something incredibly sour. He lowered his gun to the floor slowly, like the movement was causing him pain.

Tanaka couldn't shoot. She was in the way.

They were using her as an hostage...

...to force Tanaka to lower his gun...

...and guarantee their escape.

They were going to use _her_ to make their way out to hurt more people.

_Her._

Shock faded into fury.

Oh HELL _NO!_

She forced her head forward...

...the blade _DUG_ into her throat...

...and then threw her head backward with everything she had.

[b]_**CRACK!!!**_[/b]

_Oooh~ maybe that wasn't such a great idea... owowowow_

* * *

_They weren't carrying anything_ had been the first thought that crossed Yuuki's mind after seeing them. The observation remained in the back of his mind like an insistent salesman even as other, far more pressing, thoughts jumped to the fore.

Namely, Kuga getting herself captured.

Had he been less worried, he would have cursed whatever god was in charge of his luck; there was something _irritating_ about getting bad lucked or reality hacked every time the damn thieves were in his hands, and it seemed that this time, it was Kuga herself who'd found herself a victim of circumstances. Whatever had happened to her Child seemed to have given her quite a bit; her head was wobbling drunkenly even though Tetsuo Ueda was holding one of his bladed cards to her neck.

"Put down your gun, or she gets a new breathing hole!" Ueda was ordering.

Having your partner held hostage was a nightmare situation for any cop. In this case, it was made even worse by Kuga's youth, and it was with very little hesitation, if a lot of anger, that he bent to put his gun on the floor, keeping eye contact with the grinning, victorious thief—

—when suddenly Kuga _moved_—

[b]_**CRACK!!**_[/b]

—and slammed the back of her head in the middle of her captor's face. Immediately, the man released her, bringing both hands to his rapidly bloodying face.

"_Sod of a [b]__**bidj!!**__[/b]" Ooouch,_ that _had_ to be a broken nose.

Kuga tried to throw herself away, but whatever was wrong with her seemed to still be affecting her; she tripped on her own feet and fell to the floor after crossing a little more than a meter. It was enough, though, and Yuuki brought his gun back up.

"Oh shit, RUN!"

* * *

Blade didn't understand.

He didn't understand why his aniki had tried so hard to get the police man to drop his gun instead of just knocking it out of his hand with a throwing card. He didn't understand why the superhero girl had suddenly found enough strength to hit aniki, or why the hit had been strong enough to draw blood. He didn't understand why Beru-kun told them all to run after the police man got his gun back, but he listened anyway, because Beru-kun was smart. Maybe it was some kind of super-special gun which could hurt supervillains?

The policeman yelled again. They didn't listen. Blade saw his brother's face and saw it was scared. He saw Beru-kun's face. It was also scared. He was starting to feel scared too. He didn't like to be scared; that made him angry. And the police man wasn't like the scary kid. He wasn't scary.

So Blade turned around and took out the knife Beru-kun had made for him. He would be fine; he had a bulletproof vest. Plus, he was a _supervillain_.

Then the police man fired.

It wasn't like in the cartoons at all.

* * *

It wasn't like in the movies at all.

In the movies, the gunshot is always bright and fiery, accompanied with a long, singing sound.

Yuuki had already fired a gun before, so he knew reality was different. The sound was short and monotone, like a pop. There was little flash, just a lot of acrid-smelling smoke, a few sparks sometimes, and the intellectual knowledge that somewhere in front of you, a small piece of lead had just been thrown at lethal speeds. Regular Japanese police officers didn't carry guns; he had only fired enough to become familiar with recoil, which unfortunately hadn't allowed him to improve his aim all that much.

It was also the first time he had ever fired at a fellow human being.

In the movies, someone who gets hit by a bullet ends up flying back, legs kicking, arms flailing and head bobbing like a crazed puppet. If they were important enough in the story, they might get a slowdown, a dramatic moment where they whisper their final words to the hero, or an equally dramatic moment when they remain standing, looking down in shock at a spot of blood rapidly spreading on their clothes.

Reality wasn't like that.

Although he had aimed for the center of mass as he had been taught, Yuuki's aim went foul, partly because of Sunao's surprising actions, partly because of his own lack of experience with firearms; instead of going into Sunao's body, it went high into his arm. Although this might seem like a good thing, it wasn't; the chest has a certain amount of natural protection, and while the abdominal region doesn't, stomach wounds usually aren't immediately fatal. The shoulder houses the axillary artery, through which blood flows strong enough to empty a man within a few minutes, and their relative volumes mean that a bullet is much more likely to hit it than to hit one of the more numerous chest arteries. Therefore, all things considered, Ueda Sunao had been exceptionally lucky.

Fired from a range a little longer than ten meters, the bullet ran effortlessly through his clothes, as the "bulletproof vest" he'd been wearing had been little more than a pair of filthy camisoles badly sewed together with pillow stuffing inside. It then went into his upper arm where it missed the artery, thinner there than in the shoulder, by a good half centimeter, glanced off his bone with minimal chipping, then almost left his arm but failed in piercing the skin, thus leaving only one open wound and later allowing easy extraction through the other side.

That didn't mean Sunao felt lucky at the moment, though. With a shrill cry, he collapsed, clutching his rapidly bloodying wound.

"Aniki! Aniki!!" he cried, eyes reaching tearfully for his brother.

But Tetsuo kept running, whimpering as Yuuki's second shot ripped through his cloak and dug into the floor. Before the detective could line up a third shot, the thieves both turned the corner and ran out of his line of sight.

"Go after them—Go!" Kuga barked hoarsely, one hand on her throat and the other against her head. "Go!!"

And he did, bursting into a sprint. Unfortunately, the museum's snaky hallways wouldn't give him a clear shot, and in a show either of brilliance or of desperate luck on their part, they steered clear from the long showrooms that would give him what he wanted. Opportunity finally came at the entrance hall, a two-story room showcasing a massive sculpture of some abstract form; from the upper floor, he caught them just as they were dashing through the front doors as if the fires of hell were after them. He took aim as well as he could and fired—

"ARGHH!"

And the bullet cut open the other brother's sleeve and upper arm. Sadly, Tetsuo was made of sterner stuff than his brother (or was so doped up on terror-borne adrenalin that he didn't feel it as much) and continued running all the way outside. Yuuki followed desperately, running nearly a half of the room's width to reach the staircase, but even as he slid down the stairs' ramp he knew that even if he made it, he wouldn't get more than one other shot, if he was lucky.

"GodDAMNIT!" He snarled, dashing through the entrance; the door he shoved out of his way nearly went back to smack him in the face.

He looked left, then right, then left again, and with a snarl and a frustrated hand running through his hair, he realized he'd been too late.

They had escaped. _Again_.

* * *

They hadn't escaped unscathed this time, though, thought Yuuki with satisfaction as the paramedics left with Ueda Sunao's still sobbing body—"Aniki... Aniki..." he continued to mumble drunkenly through the painkillers. They were one man down, and the other had a wound that would require medical attention. A message had already been sent to every hospital in the city to be on the lookout for a man with a wounded upper arm and a broken nose; it was only a matter of time until Tetsuo fell into their hands. Konishi would still be a problem, but on his own, he would break and give himself up soon enough.

Not that he had any intention of waiting. The scene had been left as found, and his eyes automatically went to the display he'd found Tetsuo and his merry band of criminals gathered around. The glass-cutter—a professional tool, how in the world had they gotten it?—was still glued to the pane, pointing out their intended target just as well as a flashing arrow would have. And that target had been, in all appearance, a necklace. And not a very elaborate nor expensive-looking one, either; just a simple purple glass bead with yellow disks made of wood, held together and made a pendant by a simple string. It was completely worthless.

"What's with you?" asked Kuga suddenly. At first sight, it seemed like she had completely recovered from whatever had happened to her, but there were a few tell-tale signs, such as the way she held herself, which told him it wasn't quite true. Fujino hovered protectively next to her, and Yuuki purposefully avoided looking into her red eyes. She'd been most cross to hear Natsuki had been hurt, but the mean reason was...

_The street, which had been bad before, now looked like two raged beasts had fought to the death here. Lamp posts, trees, traffic signs and power poles had been snapped like twigs. Massive body-shaped craters littered the fractured pavement, the stairs, the cars, even the [b]__**walls**__[/b]. One had even been smashed into the greek columns at the entrance of the museum, and from that crater came a set of furrows, like those left behind by the claws of a massive cat being dragged away, carved into the ceramic floor. It was only as he was considering the vast spread of flickering green flames, which seemed to be everywhere, that Yuuki realized the craters were all the same size, which meant they had all been caused by the same beast being flung around like a ragdoll. _

_It hadn't been a fight. It had been a [b]__**massacre**__[/b]._

_The largest piece of the Orphan was lying next to a shattered car, being devoured by dancing green flames. And on top of the car stood Fujino, who gave him a gentle, charming smile, blood-colored naginata still in her hand._

"_Gokigenyou, tantei-han," she greeted calmly. _

_Some unrecognizable piece of the creature collapsed and fell off the burning mass._

Oh yes. Fujino was one scary little lady. He pitied whoever decided to try and cross her, in the past, present and future. She had, of course, seen the thieves leave, but she'd had the presence of mind to realize just what a _bad_ idea it would have been for a HiME to chase an _invisible car_ in the middle of a busy street, especially around this time of the year.

To Natsuki, he asked, "what do you see here?" while pointing at the device on the glass.

"A glass cutter?" Natsuki replied uncertainly. "I mean, it looks like it."

"It is. And where is it?"

"...in front of that bauble."

Surprised that she knew a word like bauble, he continued, "Right. And what's around us?"

"Uh..." she looked around. Making up most of the exposition were personal belongings of the victims, things one would expect to find in a ruined fishing village. There was really nothing of value to be found here. "...junk, I guess."

"And is that the only thing in this museum?"

"No," she replied immediately. "There was jewelry a few rooms back. And they must have seen it; I followed their trail. Which means... they're really stupid?" she guessed.

Yuuki chuckled. "No. It means that among everything that could be found in this museum, they wanted _this_ specifically," he corrected, pointing at the pendant. "Which means they'll be back to take it, and—"

A sound startled them. A small, mousy man stood at the entrance. His nose was pointy over a short Chaplin mustache, his small black eyes had a nervous look about them, and his lips were small and pinched. He was dressed in a brown, white and red ensemble which did very little to hide his protuberant stomach, and had a nametag on his breast. A perfect coiffure—which was, in all evidence, a wig—completed the look.

"Who are you?" Natsuki asked bluntly.

"Ah—I... I'm—I mean, my name is Kobayashi. I'm the curator here—did something happen—" his eyes widened in horror, "is this blood?!"

"Ah, yes. I'm afraid someone tried to break in during the whole commotion," Yuuki explained calmly. "Luckily, my partner and I made it in time and they didn't manage to steal anything."

"Ah—ah, yes, that's.... good. Can we get rid of... uh..." he pointed to the crimson puddle in which Ueda Sunao had lain just a few minutes earlier.

Yuuki shook his head, but Natsuki was the one to answer: "Nope. Don't mess with the crime scene 'till the evidence is noted down as-is." At the surprised looks she got from Yuuki and the curator, she shrugged, "Kuma-jiji hammered that down my head."

"Good rule to follow," Yuuki nodded. "Until forensics get here, I'm afraid I can't allow anyone inside. Kuga, can you go get the tape?"

His partner nodded and left. Fujino followed, and for a moment Yuuki wondered what he would do if she tried to come back. Technically, she shouldn't have been allowed on the scene in the first place, but...

As it turned out, he hadn't needed to worry. Fujino seemed to be as aware of police realities as Kuga and had excused herself once outside. At least, that's what Kuga told him when she returned. Soon after, the place swarmed with officers, and the only thing that remained was to do his report and show exactly where his shots had landed—heaven forbid management ever losing track of a single bullet.

"It's a plot," Ishigami told him when they crossed each other near the entrance; the lieutenant had Sunao's knife in his hand, sealed in a plastic bag. "They don't want you to use your gun, so they'll torture you every time you do."

It certainly felt that way.

* * *

This room gave Natsuki the willies, and she wasn't quite sure why.

There was just something about it; it made her feel as if she was walking on Fumi-obachan's flowerbed. It wasn't the junk being exposed; there was nothing scary about a tin pan that had spent the last fifty years in an irradiated wasteland. It wasn't the blood; she'd seen plenty of things scarier than a little blood. The general atmosphere of the room was actually quite pleasant. The torii... the torii was _creepy_, and she didn't know why, but it wasn't what made the whole _room_ creepy.

She could feel Durhan, in the back of her mind. He didn't like the room, either, but then he didn't like anything she didn't like.

She didn't know what happened back there, but it seemed to be going away, ever so slowly. Her ears were starting to pick up the conversations of the officers inspecting nearby rooms, and her nose was just starting to taunt her with a strong scent of paint that she knew would be overwhelming quickly. She gave a harsh glare at the gigantic mural of a nuclear mushroom clooud, which she just knew was where most of that stench was coming from.

"Impressive, isn't it?" An aged voice startled her. Somehow, some kind of old decrepit geezer had managed to sneak up on her. She blamed the whole wonkiness of the room and her dulled senses.

She gave a glance at the atomic mushroom, and shrugged. "I guess."

The old man chuckled. She noticed he also had that scent of paint about him. "It was even more impressive in person."

"You drew that?" She asked. He nodded.

"It was hard at times... in many different ways," he replied. Natsuki suddenly knew she'd made a mistake as the old man smiled a sickly smile and continued talking. "There was working here, for one; I never had the kind of calm and silence I've grown used to in my studio. The shift workers were always yelling, moving the furniture around—you wouldn't _believe_ the racket they made—and they really couldn't have cared less about me and my work..." there was an irritated tone in his voice as he continued, "as if it wasn't hard enough. Do you know what this type of painting is called, young lady?"

"Uh? Huh..." she frowned, thinking hard, wracking her brain with everything she knew about painting, and finally shrugged. "Graffiti?"

He laughed.

"I'd like to think I'm a little better than that, young lady!" he replied mirthfully while she tried to keep down her embarrassed blush. "This is called a fresco."

"Huh." Natsuki noised, trying to make it obvious without making it obvious that she didn't really feel like listening to him.

Sadly, he didn't get the signal. "It comes from Italy, because that is where this art form was really used. Some of the frescos they have over there..." he sighed with a far-out look in his eyes. "They are masterpieces. Incredible works of art. But I didn't chose this medium because of them. It's because a fresco lasts forever."

"Huh." Same attempt.

Same reaction. "This was just my way of coping, I believe," apparently, the old man had lost track of his audience, as if he just wanted to get that off his chest and share it to everyone. "A way of making sure this, _all this_ wouldn't be forgotten. That the mistake wouldn't happen again..."

"Huh," Natsuki noised. This was fine and all, but as far as she was concerned, the wall just stunk to high heavens. She was pretty sure he wouldn't like her saying that, though, so she kept her opinion to herself.

He shook his head. "But I digress. Where was I? Oh, yes, frescos. You see..."

He continued talking, something about _asekko_ or something like that, but she had already stopped listening; to her, painting sounded as interesting as... well, watching paint dry. Instead, she let her vision roam around, judging Tanaka's theory against the facts. Among the things found by the expedition and which she hadn't noticed at first sight was a katana, bright, shiny and in excellent shape—probably refurbished. At the base of the handle was written... well, she couldn't read the first name, but she recognized the last two kanji and read them as "Minagi".

Some kind of ancestral blade? Either way, it _had_ to be worth more than the bauble they'd tried to take. And about that...

She walked to the pendant, still sitting undisturbed in its glass case. It was locked tight, but she really felt like inspecting the damn thing, to see if it really was as worthless as it looked. She looked around for Tanuki. He was nowhere to be found. Kumaji... gone too. Damn. Even Ishigami was gone. She knew the faces of most of the officers present, of course, but she'd never talked to them, or at least not enough to get them to open the case for her.

"Can I do something for you, young lady?"

!!!

It was the cu... the co... the museum manager, Kobayashi. And somehow, _he'd_ managed to sneak on her too.

'_Can't wait until my ears are back to normal,_' she thought irritatedly.

"I just wanted to have a look at that pendant, but... well, I don't have any gloves, and it's locked in," she explained with a shrug. "No big deal, I'll just bug Tanaka after."

"Ah—I have gloves, ah..." he dug in his pockets nervously, and pulled out a pair of clean white satin gloves. "And as for the key, it's right here." and it was in his other hand.

"Hm... well, let's have a look then," Natsuki smiled, putting on the gloves.

She inspected the pendant carefully, but found nothing special about it. The text in front of it said it had been found in a sealed room behind the island's only temple, wherein multiple pieces of a mural had been found. If it was to be believed, the amulet was part of some kind of secret worship the inhabitants of Fuuka had kept to themselves. She rolled her eyes at the clichéd and romantic story.

"Psh. This is junk." she concluded.

"It certainly is," Kobayashi agreed immediately. "But it's part of this exhibit. Here, give it to me, I'll put it back in."

Shrugging, Natsuki handed him the worthless trinket and went to the entrance to find Yuuki. She still wasn't sure his deduction was right, but hey, he'd been right so far, that had to count for something.

It took nearly a quarter of an hour before an officer finally noticed the little pendant was missing.

* * *

"He did _what_?!" Yuuki exclaimed.

"Exactly what I said," replied Ichidouji over the police radio. The public radio channel, in the meantime, was relaying the alarming announcement airing from the arrays of the most popular station in town.

"_...message for public attention toward the infamous Orphan Summoners. It reads: 'I have what you want, come to me at midnight at the following address..._"

"He stole the pendant from his own museum and wanted to just hand it to them," Ichidouji continued. "I guess he must have figured out they wanted it, and he didin't want them to attack his museum again."

"He overheard us." Yuuki sighed. "I take it he's already been caught?"

"Yes, we caught him in his own house. The pendant is currently at the station."

Yuuki snorted. "He panicked and acted on a half-assed plan."

"Because of the search order, it's public knowledge that they go around in a van," Ishigami noted, a few meters away from the patrol car. Kuga was at his side, puffy-eyed and sulking. "That's why he went for a radio station; he figures they're probably listening. Obviously, a story like that is something those vultures would jump on." he made a noise, considering the little girl at his side, "It would have seemed suspicious if he'd opened the glass himself for no reason, but if it was for Princess, then it's more normal, since she's with us."

"Sorry." Kuga grumbled. She seemed absolutely furious, both in herself and in the curator.

"Don't be," Yuuki told her, then rectified himself at her hopeful look. "I mean, you still screwed up, but this might play in our favor. If they heard it, we know where they'll be at midnight tonight. That's our chance to grab them. And if they didn't, well, the situation hasn't changed, and we have what they want."

Kuga blinked, then nodded with a wolfish grin.

Overhead, the sun painted the sky in oranges and reds. And far, but rapidly approaching, dark clouds darkened the horizon, heavy with rain. Two pairs of eyes saw them approach, one, crimson, with excitement, and the other, mauve, with apprehension.

* * *

**Akuma-sama's notes: **

Before you ask, no, it's not _that_ Haruka in the opening scene. Look up Idolmaster Xenoglossia and be enlightened in the ways of girl-robot love if you haven't already. Or just plain Idolmster if you feel like watching a teen sing and dance in conservative—or far from—costumes and call you Mr Producer. And fall in love with you, I guess. Your mileage may vary.

Next chapter is the last one. Expect a bit of exposition, about Natsuki's past and the why of the way she is now, and a bit about Yuuki too.

Oh, and the world, too. Just a bit. The one part you can't possibly figure out with the clues I've handed out, at least. :P

**Japanese notes: **

Tantei: Detective.

(kinda forgot to take note of the words I was using this time, so yeah. Google is your friend. Until they become your overlord, but hey, shit happens.


	9. Chapter 8: Gold

"Damnit. Damnit... fucking damn fuck... **fuck**!"

Both hands on the steering wheel and doing his best to avoid the cars navigating obliviously to their presence, Tokiichi Konishi tried not to look at the bloodied face of his partner in crime or listen to his infuriated spiel of curses, while he reflected upon the failure that today had turned out to be.

He'd lost one of his partners. On any other day, he would have relished in the disappearance of that mentally ill simplistic buffoon, but the unfortunate fact was that in his stupidity, that big oaf had allowed _the knife_ to fall into police hands. Without that knife, they couldn't materialize orphans. Had he had enough time, he could have made another one—even given the rather esoteric and nonsensical requirements of the methodology involved—but time was exactly the _one_ thing he didn't have.

The boy had threatened to take the book away. _That_ couldn't be allowed. The book was _evidence_ that he'd been _right _all along. Somewhere among the pages of that book was the _key_ to ridding the world of the Orphan menace, he knew it.

He didn't know how the boy had gotten in hands on it, nor did he know why he absolutely needed them to get that ridiculous pendant for them. What he _did_ know, with no scientific or reasonable evidence supporting it, was that that boy was _dangerous_. More so than his partners, and far more than the beings they had created from the... _life essence_ of those girls.

Simply saying the word made him flinch. Not because of the fact that he'd become accessory to murder by taking part in this whole debacle; he'd made his peace with _that_ a while ago already. It was the whole... _mysticism_ of the word. The whole book was full of unscientific nonsense, which was only to be expected of a manuscript of its age and made trying to make heads of tails of it a true headache. He would have dismissed it had their first experiment, the van's... truly incomprehensible mind-distracting field, not been such a brilliant success.

_That_ had convinced him to throw his lot with the two idiots he'd spent the longest week of his life with. Yes, he had broken the law. He had stolen. He had broken and entered. He had kidnapped. He had killed, if indirectly. But it was all for such a good cause that, although the world would certainly not see it that way, anything was worthy of pardon.

Was the advancement of knowledge in the service of humanity not the ultimate goal of science? If one man was to murder and maim dozens for a million lives to be saved, was the sacrifice not justified? Wouldn't doing nothing and allowing many to suffer and die in the name of the few be the unethical decision?

Tokiichi Konishi believed so. Those girls had died; it was tragic, but it had been necessary. He had become a monster and was fully aware of the punishment waiting for him once he was caught, but if it helped stop Orphans and HiMEs from appearing and ruining normal lives anymore, then it would be worth it. His martyrdom wouldn't come to waste.

But _that_ was assuming he managed to secure the ownership of the book in himself, which wouldn't happen unless they brought the pendant to that boy (why he couldn't get it himself, Konishi had no idea) and without the knife, _and_ with the police on alert already, it was extremely doubtful they would have the power to do it.

Well, there was _that_, but he hadn't tested it at all, nor had he had the occasion to do so. The ritual in question appeared to be... ill advised if continuing survival of the subject was desirable, and as the only available test subject was himself, he had serious qualms about trying it out.

He could have tried it on one of his companions, but the problem with that was the opposite problem: what if it _worked_? Having spent the entirety of his time for the past week with his partners in crime, Konishi had built himself a very good idea of their characters, and granting_that _kind of power to the man sitting next to him was absolutely out of question. Not that the other one had been much better.

Konishi pitied Ueda Sunao, as it was the right thing to do. He believed there was two kinds of idiots in this world: those who decided to remain ignorant and stupid, and those for whom nature or fate had made the choice for them. Sunao had been the latter. A big, bulky man with mental retardation which could only have been the result of an unfortunate draw at genetics, who saw the world the same way he saw his cartoons and who had no qualms about taking lives because he _didn't know_ anyone but himself and his brother were more than just cardboard cutouts.

In comparison, Ueda Tetsuo was the real monster. In fact, Konishi admitted without hesitation that between the three of them, the self-proclaimed "Joker" and leader of their little group—by unanimous self-decision if nothing else—was the most evil among them. Konishi had, at the very least, pure goals. He wanted the betterment of mankind. Tetsuo's motivations were anything but noble: hatred, blood thirst and greed.

Ueda Tetsuo was a man who had failed everything he'd set off to do in life and instead of getting up and trying again, he'd instead given up and chosen to vent his frustration on anything and everything. Why were others succeeding where he failed? Why wasn't _he_ rich and successful and beautiful and popular? Why was his brother cursed with mental illness? There was no question as to why that boy had chosen to approach Tetsuo first, Konishi reflected. He was a sociopath waiting to happen. All he'd needed was a little push and a bit of encouragement and off he went, wrecking and breaking everything along the way like a demented, hateful wrecking ball.

And it was for that very reason that Konishi could _never_ tell him exactly what he'd done with the rings he'd been wearing since they'd stolen them.

"Let's get him back."

It took him a few seconds to realize Tetsuo had just spoken, and a few more to decipher the sudden declaration. When he did, he almost sent the car swerving into the opposite lane.

"Are you _insane_?" He was, Konishi immediately told himself. "We don't have the time or resources to waste on a rescue attempt. Besides, your brother got _shot_, and so did you. You both need treatment, and there's no way—"

"Shut up. We're going, and that's that."

Konishi shot his partner a glare. Had this happened just a week earlier, he would have caved in right there, but a whole six days of getting his patience hammered on had done wonders to his backbone. "No we're not. Remember the boy? If we don't bring him what he wants tomorrow, he'll take the book away, and—"

"_Fuck the book!_" Tetsuo snarled, trying to turn on his seat and wincing at the pain this caused in his wounded and bleeding arm. "You still remember how to make those knives, right? That's all we need."

That's all _you_ need maybe, he almost said, but held himself. The last thing he wanted was to fight Tetsuo now—even though, in his current state, Konishi was pretty sure he could handle the younger man.

"Your brother is even more hurt than you are. The best place for him right now is in a hospital. If you take him out of there, he might not survive. We'd just end up injuring him even more."

"I... that's..." Tetsuo frowned in thought, to Konishi's surprise. Was he actually getting through to this idiot? "...alright. One week. He should by fine by then, right?"

"Yes, it'll be fine." and in a week, the book would be safely in his hands, or he'd be able to get away from him. "It'll be just fine."

That's when a message addressed to "the Orphan-using thieves" sounded on the radio. The two conspirators shared a meaningful look.

The time was six fifty-three.

* * *

**My**∞**HiME**

**Book 1**

**Fresco**

**Disclaimer: **Buttered brocolli will become bathetic when battered with buttercup.

**Chapter 8: Gold**

**

* * *

**

"_Heyo, wazaap evuriwan! Hope y'all had a good vacation, full of sun and rest and for the luckiest among us, hot babes. I am DJ Hots, your host for this last evening of peace before—heyy, not gonna talk about that just yet! I hope you've all got insurance for tonight's show, because I'm gonna break your bass, guaranteed. Ready? No? Here we go!" _

It had to be pre-recorded.

Had to be.

There was no other explanation as to why that radio announcer would say the word "sun", unless he didn't know what the sky looked like at the moment, Yuuki reflected, glancing upward. The sky, which had been blue all day, suddenly looked like God had fallen asleep on the 'rain' button. Massive drops fell from the sky in a thick curtain, leaving splashes the size of ping pong balls against the wind shield. Although the sound just about overpowered the beats on the radio—admittedly easy, as the volume was set low so passerby's wouldn't hear it—it was strangely hypnotic, and with the stifling air coming from the car's heating system, the lure of the sandman seemed as tempting as the snake's apple. In fact, Kuga seemed just about to fall asleep herself, head against the passenger side window.

Then again, he thought while glancing at the "eleven twenty-three" softly glowing in blue on the clock, it was probably _way_ past her bedtime.

The car they were in wasn't a patrol car. It was a Toyota of an ubiquitous decennial model, with typical grey paint and absolutely no notable features, except a thin layer of rust around the wheels which today's rain would certainly do nothing to abate. It was a police car through and though, however, as its engine was the same ultra-high performance one would normally find in a squad car, and the glove compartment was replaced by a small black and white TV screen which was fed by a tightly concealed camera in the front grid.

A car sped past his window. He ignored it; if he could see it, it wasn't the one they were looking for... which reminded him of an important point.

"Oi, Kuga. Are you sleeping?"

"Can't," she replied in a tired mumble. "Durhan is too cold and uncomfortable out there, and I feel what he does."

She sounded a bit miffed about that, but didn't ask to bring him back. Nor would he suggest it; she'd been the one who had sent him out in this crappy weather to stake out the intercept point from the rooftops. Apparently, he wasn't worried about not being able to see the pickup point. Nor was he worried about rusting, apparently; Yuuki felt like a dunce for feeling like asking if he _could_ rust.

"I see."

"You should probably switch seat, though," she noted, pointing at the screen between her legs. "This thing is useless to me."

He shrugged. "Maybe, but if they _do_ get here, I want to be able to move the car and chase them if I need to. I'll just have to rely on you."

At some other time this week, that last part would probably have come out with a healthy dose of defeatism. This time, there wasn't any. She made a weird face at him, equally amused and annoyed, and turned back to look at the intersection.

Really, the museum curator had done a pretty good job in choosing his spot. It was a T-street, bordering a temple's grounds and a quiet upscale residential neighborhood typical of Juuban; it also happened to be a five minutes' walk away from the curator's house, which had probably been the most important aspect of the man's decision. The grounds on their left were fenced off with metal bars, barely visible in the dim light and through the thick vegetation invading them, that were roughly the height of a man and perched atop an old stone slope twice their height. The intersecting street going between the spacious—relatively speaking—residential blocks on their right was a one-way coming from this street. In effect, the only ways in would either be highly visible to would have them pass right next to them, unless the thieves decided to throw caution to the wind and venture down the typically cramped one-way. The package had been left under a mailbox at the corner, but its content had, of course, been emptied as soon as the curator's intentions had been discovered. The pendant was now resting in a safe back in headquarters.

Yuuki wasn't sure where Durhan was. That was good; if he knew the wolf was out there and he _still_ couldn't see it, then there was no way the thieves would.

There was a gust of wind, and the rain went from being a mere curtain to rendering a passable imitation of the bottom of a lake for a second or two. He cursed under his breath and looked at the wiper settings, which sadly were set to the maximum already. The visibility was horrid; the streetlights overhead barely managed to reach them, and anything past ten meters or so was uniformly grey and white. At this late hour, not one light shone through the windows of the surrounding houses. If the thieves were sane, they would decide to sit tight, stay home and _sleep_.

But then, if they were, they wouldn't have started, would they?

He glanced at the clock. Eleven-thirty. Half an hour to go. The curator must have seen too many cheap intrigue shows, setting things to go at midnight... and dropping the package at the drop point nearly three hours before.

In a way, it was a good thing it was raining so hard, Yuuki noted idly. The message about the drop-off had aired on public waves; if this storm hadn't come, they would have had to deal with a few dozen curious onlookers waiting for midnight. As it was, he'd spotted one or two conspicuous umbrellas wandering around and tarrying a little longer than they had to, but in the end the wind and the rain defeated their quest for cheap entertainment and stories to tell.

The news hadn't reported any kidnappings, but the possibility that one had slipped under the radar remained. An Orphan situation in that scenario would have been a catastrophe.

But that was all useless conjecture at this point; there was no crowd, they had what the thieves wanted to get, and he was just thinking to himself in a semi-successful attempt to stay awake.

There was a thump against the passenger window, and a soft un-childlike curse. He gave Kuga an amused glance as she recovered from nearly dozing off, which she replied with a heat-less glare.

"_Yo all, DJ Hots reporting, your host for the evening here on the waves of 78.4, TCCS. This was—"_ following was a string of garbled and incomprehensible syllables which probably much desired to be English but failed in every way. "_...up next, we have something a bit more peppy to brighten up this dreary night: the girls of Morning Musume and I will do our best to entertain you with a medley of their greatest hits—" _

Yuuki reached for the radio switch. His hand collided with Kuga's, who'd done the same. They stared at each other for a moment...

"_Oooooh~PEACE!"_

...and as one completed the movement, both of them mashing the button at the same time, and the much despised J-pop—even enhanced with some techno—fell silent.

...which left them with nothing to listen to other than the falling rain. Unfortunately, this meant there was nothing for them to listen to except the rain, and while _she_ could look outside and reasonably hope to see them coming, he couldn't. The only thing left for him was to stare at the clock and think, which he did for some time.

Eleven thirty-three.

_tap...tap..._

Eleven thirty-four.

..._tap-tap-tap..._

Eleven thirty-five.

..._tada-dap-ta-dadap..._

He gave a glance at his left; Kuga's hands appeared to be trying to learn new ways to run a beat with three fingers. As for her, she was staring at the mirror, completely immobile. With the way her face was lit up by the screen in the glove box, she looked like a black-and-white photography.

"What?" she suddenly asked; her iris dove to the corner of her eye to look his way.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Just bored, I guess."

"Hm."

And it turned away.

He turned back to the clock on the dashboard.

Still Eleven thirty-five.

He sighed. If this kept up, he'd be going stir-crazy way before midnight. Was there anything to do? Maybe the radio...

_click..._

"_I wanna be your prin~c—"_

_**click.**_

Right. No radio. He sighed, pointedly ignoring Kuga's snicker.

Maybe if he could get her talking... He'd been intending to find out why a little girl like her worked with the police, anyway. Maybe now was a good time?

"So, er..." the worded question he'd meant to ask escaped from his brain like a mocking leprechaun the very instant he'd started to ask, so what came out instead was, "did you work here before?"

"...huh?"

Ah damnit. Think of it like an interrogation.

"I mean, what did Kumaji and you work on before? What kind of jobs?"

Kuga blinked, and he could practically hear her thinking 'Where the hell did that come from?' from the look on her face. Finally, she shrugged, seemed to decide that it would be less boring to humor him, and replied, "this and that; missing people, theft, one or two murders; stuff my nose was useful at. What about you?"

He raised an eyebrow, not expecting such a grim list; obviously, Kumaji must have been harder on her than he'd expected. There was an unspoken comment in her voice, and he replied, "I wasn't always looking at minor crimes, you know." Her cheeks colored as the hit registered, and he continued with a grin, "no, my hometown was too small for divisions or anything like that. It was just me and two other detectives handling every investigation in the area, with what little resources we had. Theft, murder, disappearances, suicides..." he shrugged. "I'm pretty junior, but I was the only town native in the station, so they liked to heap up all the complicated jobs to me."

"Huh." She noised. "You sound like you enjoyed it, so why did you transfer over?"

"Ah..."

Like a wolf smelling blood, Kuga pounced at his hesitation. "Oh, come on. What did you do? Scratch the Captain's car?"

"Nothing like that," he snapped. "It's just... well, you'll think it's stupid."

She raised a blue eyebrow. "Try me."

"Fine. There weren't any girls working at the station. It was a total sausage fest—I'm serious!" he replied over her guffaws. "It didn't fit my... I guess, my dream of what my job as a cop would be, I think." he joined in her humor himself, "I guess it sounds pretty dumb, right?"

"I should have expected that," she commented, between giggles. "Casanova! Dom Shuan!"

Did she even know what that mean? And what on earth was a Dom Shu—did she mean Don Juan?

"Yeah, well everyone has a reason for doing something; without a reason, there's no action," he replied more seriously. "I seriously wanted to become a cop—well, if I say it like that, you'll think I'm a pervert."

"Too late," she snickered.

"You're just too young to appreciate my reasoning," he accused, which prompted another bout of childish giggles. "Alright. Fine. I'll explain from the start.

"This happened back when I was a few years younger than you; somewhere like seven or eight, I can't remember exactly. At that age, kids are stupid, right?" she empathically nodded in agreement. "Right. So imagine that you're a kid—well, a younger kid at least—" she pulled her tongue at him, he ignored it and continued, "and that just a few streets away from your school, there's this big old mansion where nobody lives. Obviously, there's all kinds of scary stories about it, about ghosts or monsters living in it, weird sounds coming from it, and everything. It's summer break. What do you do?"

"_Kimodameshi_." she replied with no hesitation. "So you went in there and got in trouble?"

He nodded. "Exactly. It was a really _old_ building; apparently the family that lived there had all died or disappeared in mysterious circumstances about thirty years ago—well, back then; must be around fifty by now—and no one had ever bothered to try and keep it in good shape... so here I am, walking with my crush, trying to impress her with my courage while I'm shaking in my shoes at every sound that pops between the wood planks, and suddenly the floor breaks and I'm falling through, into the basement. I didn't fall right and sprained my angle pretty badly. I'd given our flashlight to the girl—Tomoko, I think it was—so basically I'm stuck in a place I can't get out of and which I'm pretty sure is haunted, in complete darkness. Then Tomoko decides to run off and get help—with the flashlight, of course—so on top of that, I'm left alone."

Kuga _flinched_. "That... ok, and?"

"And, well, what do you think? I was scared out of my wits! But Tomoko came through and got the neighborhood cop to get me out of there. Just so happened that at the time, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever met."

Kuga snickered. "Scared as you were, a sumo wrestler would have looked hot."

He chuckled. "Could be. It did help that she had all the right parts at the right size at the right places."

Kuga a single "Hn" of amusement. "So... what, you decided to become a cop so you'd find her again?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you were such a romantic." At her outraged face, he smiled and shook his head. "No. Well, maybe at first, but then I realized I wasn't living in a novel, so I might as well get on with reality. Besides, she transferred to some other town when I was about mid-way through middle school—and there's no way a woman like that wasn't married anyway. No, by the time I really made my mind about my career choice, I'd figured out this little fundamental fact:

"Women in uniform are hot."

"You _are_ a pervert!" Kuga accused him, and he shrugged.

"Just calling it how I see it. There's just something... I dunno. And you wouldn't know either, I guess."

"Hmph." She didn't look impressed. "So… basically you became a cop to meet hot girls in uniforms… and you ended up with me." A blue eyebrow rose over an amused emerald eye. "You'd better not be getting any ideas, or else."

"Women in uniform. _Women_. And that's not a uniform," he added, pointing at her hoodie.

"Heh."

And with that, the conversation died a peaceful death. Kuga returned her attention to her vigil of the street, and Yuuki's eyes took a peek at the clock.

Eleven fifty-one.

Hey, not bad! Almost there. Now all he had to—

And that's when he realized she'd gotten him to spill more about himself than he'd told most people with three simple words and a veiled accusation, without telling him much of anything at all. He gave her a glance, this one more cautious. Not bad, for a kid. Maybe if she learned how to do that on purpose, she'd actually make a good detective herself one day.

That is, if she even wanted to.

"While we're on that topic, what about you?" he asked. "It's not entirely voluntary work, is it."

His words were less a question and more of a request for confirmation. He'd already figured out she didn't have a choice with assisting the police, though he couldn't figure out why at all. For a girl her age to be forced to work in what amounted to a dangerous environment, HiME or not, seemed to spit right in the face of international human rights, yet it was unthinkable that the police of an entire _ward _would end up doing something so blatantly illegal in everyone's eyes in normal circumstances.

The rain continued to fall. A small branch, no doubt broken by the wind, clattered atop the front of the car, only to be blown away almost instantly. Fifty-one became fifty-two, then fifty-three, and no answers came. He risked a glance her way; she was staring listlessly outside, by all appearance not having heard his question. But that was impossible in the silence of their car.

She didn't want to answer.

He shrugged. Oh well, not like he'd expected her to, anyway. As Himeno-san had said, that girl had more defenses around her than a battleship.

He was still looking at her when she suddenly tensed up.

"What's wrong?"

"Durhan sees them. They're coming from up ahead."

Yuuki nodded and reached for the radio.

"They're in the trap. Close it. Ten-four."

"_Copy that, Tanuki. The thieves are in the trap, closing the streets. Get them! Ten-four."_

Yuuki grinned and turned toward Kuga. "They're probably going to stop near the corner and have one of them come out. I want Durhan to wait until he's near the mailbox before pouncing on him. Then you and I go for the other one."

Kuga nodded. "Good plan."

…of course, it didn't quite work that way. As always.

It took a few seconds for the van to arrive; the two thieves were understandably cautious about venturing into what was obviously a trap. Although Yuuki couldn't see them, Natsuki tracked their progress easily enough; she could barely see them through the shower splattering against the windshield, but she could see them clearly from her vantage point on top of a nearby building. The wind battered harmlessly against the glass and caused servos to run wild through her metal skin. There was no way she could smell anything but a faint stench of tobacco inside the insulated cage she was in, yet her nose caught the extremely faint scent of their prey's vehicle; incompletely burned gas, sea, rust and, most poignantly, blood.

At that moment, there was very little difference between Natsuki and her Child. It wasn't the first time they'd united this way, but by far this had been the longest.

It felt… good. Like sharing everything you knew to someone you knew you could trust implicitly.

The white Hayace slowed to a stop before the intersection. Both front doors opened and both thieves walked out, instead of just one as Yuuki had expected. This caused them to hesitate a little, as one considered the best course of action to take both out and the other simply wasn't sure what to do.

"They both walked out. What do we do?" she asked Yuuki.

Her chaperone smiled. "That's good, better than I'd expected. Have him jump on the one closest to the van. We'll chase and get the other one."

She nodded and their plan changed. The one with the white cape—Tetsuo, supplied their human half—was actually slower than the other—Konishi—in reaching the mailbox. This made him the perfect target. Their human half told their packmate a signal that didn't make sense, and their [[other]] half _pounced_…

The next sequence of events happened very quickly. Natsuki and Yuuki burst out of the undercover car at roughly the same time, and barely had time to put both of their feet on the wet asphalt that several hundred kilograms of force _slammed_ into Ueda Tetsuo, knocking him to the ground effortlessly.

"ARGHH!" was his reaction to the impact. "AAAAAARGHHHHH!" was his reaction to finding Durhan's glinting fangs mere inches from his face.

Konishi spun around, package in hand, and started an exclamation, but Yuuki suddenly came around his door, gun raised. "FREEZE! HANDS IN THE AIR!"

"GET IT OFF ME! _GET IT OFF ME!_"

Alone, held at gunpoint by an officer who'd shown himself willing to shoot, with his only partner pinned to the ground by a massive wolf made of metal, Konishi would have panicked. Konishi _should_ have panicked. But the global importance of what he held in his hands—in his opinion and beliefs—forced his baser instincts down. Slowly, he raised his hands in apparent surrender, package in hand. As soon as both of his hands were behind the box, he focused a bit and tapped the ring on his right middle finger in a certain pattern.

He knew it worked when the officer's eyes widened in shock and seemed to lose focus on him. He burst into the fastest sprint of his life.

The ring emitted a smaller no-notice field—the name having been picked by Sunao and had been accepted by both of his partners before he could invent a properly scientific name for it—around his person. This worked just fine in hiding him from the kansaijin detective, but did absolutely nothing to hide him from Natsuki.

The little girl fired her guns twice, aiming for Konishi's knees. The shots barely reached mid-way through, leaving thousands of tiny ice shards clattering on the asphalt in their wake as the cold-based blasts wasted their energy on the rain. Natsuki reacted quickly, shifted her guns' mode with an instinctive movement she barely understood herself and fired again. The pressure shots left a visible trace in the air and smashed unerringly onto the back of the man's knees, sending him to the ground with a shrill cry. A second shot on the shoulder aborted his attempt at getting back up as Natsuki approached.

She was dimly aware, through Durhan's eyes, of Yuuki putting handcuffs around the terrified Tetsuo's trembling wrists.

"End of the road for you two," she declared when she came close enough. He'd spun around, staring at her with eyes full of helpless bravado. "Surrender quietly and I won't have to shoot you again."

"I—I can't… I won't let you…"

Even as he tried to produce a viable comeback, Konishi cursed and wailed inwardly at the fates who'd assailed him this insult. A HiME. A _goddamn HiME_. Of all things that would end up catching him like this, it was one of the very things his experiments had been meant to eliminate. It was ironic, it was poetic, and it was _completely unfair_. He wasn't one to believe in gods and destiny, but it was hard to believe that coincidence had sent him on a path barreling into this child-shaped monster, considering his aims.

The righteousness of his goals gave more steel to his soul than he'd ever felt before. At that moment, he would have defied a raging beast—no, he would have stood in front of a whole line of _tanks_. He couldn't afford to lose—he couldn't let himself be defeated here and now; the fate of the entire _world_ rested upon his shoulders!

It was this patriotic, fanatical belief which had him reach for the _other_ ring he'd modified. That special, untested, untestable ring, proof that his theory of the origins of Orphans was _right_ and that all the fools who thought him deluded were _wrong_…

Power, warmth and strength and other indescribable pleasant-unpleasant sensations ran up his arm, picking speed even as they gained in strength. By the time they were past his shoulder and reaching into his chest, the burning was almost agonizing—orgasmic—and a victorious grin appeared on his face. Natsuki took a step back, instinctively knowing _something_ was going on. She was forced to cover her eyes as the glow coming from the ring intensified to painful levels, and she barely heard the sound of her own call for his surrender; all sounds, except that damnably constant rainfall, seemed muted, as if the whole world was holding its breath at the sight of some horrible sacrilege.

Between the cracks in her fingers, she just barely caught a glimpse of his hair as it suddenly turned golden-white and glowed even more powerfully than the ring.

She definitely missed the glowing mark that appeared on the man's hand; a flame-like marking identical to the birthmark she had on her flank.

She didn't miss the way his grin vanished, replaced by worry, only to shift into the purest of horror—

_Time stop__ped._

_Tokiichi__ Konishi was aware only of the agonizing burning in his whole body, of how he felt—knew—he was falling apart, of the undescribable burning _things_ clawing at his mind and sanity, screaming the agony of the damned into his soul even as they grabbed for it inexorably. The rain, cold, soothing, _natural,_ had stopped, and the only death and fire remained…_

_He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He didn't need to. He couldn't think. He wasn't aware, yet he _was_. The monster-girl—not girl—not human—not monster—was unmoving, like a statue. Raindrops had stalled in mid-air like a million needles. _

_And he realized she wasn't alone. A… _something_ walked out of the shadows, its steps resonating like a judge's hammer in the unearthly silence. A form, smoky and diffuse as a wisp, appeared, floating—walking—crawling—on its four—six—thirteentwoseventwentyeight—legstentacles__**howcanitstandhowcanit**__—_

_His vision averted, though his eyes couldn't move. This… _thing_ was impossibly painful to look at…_

_And suddenly, the creature was gone, and in its place… in its place was_

_**the boy**__, and Konishi immediately noted he was holding __**the book**__ under his shoulder. Then he noticed the boy was _wrong_ in some subtle, unconscious way. Whenever Konishi's attention looked away, it was like the boy's shape was _different_, not human but rather like some kind of strange, indefinable smoky shape, but the illusion vanished whenever he looked straight at him…_

…_or perhaps the illusion _appeared_ instead?_

_And suddenly the boy was in front of him, staring at him with those cold, calculating crimson eyes—the eyes—the __**eyes**__—notbeastnotdemon__**NotHuman**__—were staring into his in cold amusement. _

"_My lord appreciates your offer," the boy said in a voice that wasn't his and in the tone of someone being pointedly diplomatic, "but I'm afraid he prefers his brides female. I'd tell you you'll have to go back, but I'm afraid this world won't keep you anymore, either. Not after the insult you just gave it." _

_He smiled, revealing pearly white normal—serrated fangs—teeth, and his eyes were__ glowing cheerful as he continued, _

"_As always, humans try to mess with things they don't know without understanding the risks. At least this time, you're the only one who suffered—well, from _this_ example of foolhardiness, at least." He frowned—snarled—hissed. "As for those who suffered from the rest of what you and your partners have done, well, the blame mostly falls upon you, doesn't it? There were many things in this book which didn't need any kind of sacrifices, yet you went and picked the worst of the lot, and used it on the most innocent of innocents." _

_He shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, you got what you deserved, human. As always, the justice of Inari-sama and mother nature is fittingly cruel. Goodbye, and I hope I won't see you in the next cycle." _

_And__ he turned around and vanished, leaving Konishi alone with his pain—pain which kept increasing and growing and burning and burning and __**burning**_—as Tokiichi Konishi's hair suddenly flashed into flames, throwing blinding green light across the tenebrous street. The ethereal inferno burned its way down, ravaging his brow, devouring his cheeks and the insides of his screaming mouth. His body collapsed to the ground and rolled, curling into a ball. His hands reached to claw at the fire, which greedily made the jump and started devouring his limbs, running down his arms, jumping from his elbows to his knees and consuming his legs as well, seemingly unaffected by the rain. His screams continued as his skin cracked and broke, his clothes flashed into smoke, his organs charred. His eyes remained somehow intact, mad with agony and impossibly wide as his eyelids disappeared in smoke, until the fire redoubled in intensity and slashed at them like a snake—

—and as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The flames flickered out like a blown candle with the same abruptness as his screams leaving the defeated thief, the police officer and the shocked teenager to stare in shock at the charred carcass and try to deny what they'd just seen.

Seconds later, the stench of burnt flesh and clothing assaulted their noses, and Yuuki remembered that he had a job to finish even as Kuga gagged and Durhan whined. The shocked Ueda Tetsuo offered no resistance as Yuuki settled him on the back seat. His hands were remarkably steady as he picked up the radio.

"Tanaka to headquarters. One capture and… one dead. Bring people with a strong stomach, please."

"…_Understood, Tanaka. Sending forensics to the scene. Is it over?_"

"…yeah," he replied after a short pause. "It's over. Ten-four."

"_Ten-four."_

Yuuki hung the radio, laid back on his seat and took a deep breath…

…then he opened his door, threw his head out in the rain, and was violently sick.

* * *

Ueda Sunao was at the hospital, where he was expected to recover fully, in time for his trial and life sentence in a few months.

Ueda Tetsuo would be tried at the same time, and there was no way either of them were going to escape.

Tokiichi Konishi… had already received a fitting punishment.

It was over, Tanaka Yuuki thought, keeping as much attention as he could on the nearly deserted nocturnal streets. This damned, impossible, irrational and bloody case was finally over. Kumaji had seemed quite satisfied with the end result. He was still having trouble believing it, himself, and he personally felt as if not all aspects of the case had been closed, but the captain had warned him against obsessing over what he had no leads into—which was exactly what the rest of the case appeared to be.

And so here he was, with a promise of some kind of reward from the chief herself the next morning—which he assumed was a promise of continuing employment, or at least so he hoped—back on the highway system of Tokyo, driving his young partner back to the Himeno Orphanage. The little bluette was staring outside thoughtfully, her head bobbing left and right with the rhythm of passing streetlamps. She wasn't asleep—not quite—but she was starting to develop impressive rings under her eyes. He didn't feel so hot either, but he wasn't a growing boy.

The clock showed twelve-twenty-nine. Barely more than half an hour ago, they'd watched a man burn to death.

He shook his head, still not quite believing what he'd experienced. Spontaneous combustion was not something addressed by police training.

He'd expected Kuga to be in a worse state than she was, but then she hadn't been all that shocked by discovering mangled bodies of girls her age, so who was he to assume how she'd react to anything?

He felt no embarrassment by the fact that she hadn't thrown up. Whatever she was made of, it was _tough stuff_. He knew that, now. He'd known that since they'd discovered those girls.

The radio was off. The rain had abated, but not much, just enough to make its sound a relaxing, pleasant drone over the purr of the car's engine. Neither had spoken to each other since they'd boarded the car, but it wasn't a bad silence. It was, in fact, as good a silence he'd ever shared with his partner.

It wasn't what he'd expected, coming here. She wasn't, either. But… all things considered, it wasn't so bad. Sure, she was a little girl, and she hadn't had proper training beyond what Kumaji had taught her, and she could be a bit of a brat, and she was defensive and abrasive and aggressive and willful. But she had potential… and the chief had been right. She could be downright terrifying when she wanted to. More importantly, she wasn't useless; she had a keen eye and damn good instincts.

Some part of him considered what she'd look like with a few more years on her. That part was tied up, gagged, silenced and murdered, then cut to pieces and hidden in creative places no one would ever consider or find.

He wasn't so desperate as to turn into Hikaru Genji. The thought made him chuckle a bit, and he noticed Kuga turning to look at him in curiosity.

He waved off her unvoiced question. She shrugged and turned back toward the window.

A light up ahead turned red. He slowed the car to a stop, and the comfortable silence grew deeper as the engine went nearly silent.

To his surprise, it was broken by his partner's unusually soft soprano. What she spoke about surprised him even more.

"As far as I can remember, I was always alone with my dad," she suddenly begun. He looked at her; she was staring outside, her chin lying on her arm and the top of her head against the window, her eyes unfocused. "He was… he was a very angry man. We used to live in a crappy apartment in Nerima, since he never managed to keep a job for more than a few months. He wasn't abusive, but he just… he hated me, but didn't want to harm me, if that makes any sense. He always said I looked a lot like my mom, and I think that's the only reason why he didn't do anything to hurt me outright. At the time I still liked him, I guess. He was my dad, even if he was a waste of human flesh."

Yuuki blinked at the disgusted hostility in her voice. He found it rather unsettling that a thirteen years old girl could produce that kind of tone.

But then, this wasn't an ordinary thirteen years old, was it?

He was tempted to ask what brought this on, but his curiosity held him back.

"When I started school, it didn't take very long before I realized my dad wasn't like the others; all the other girls in my class talked about their parents like they were the center of their lives, people who loved and protected them. I made a friend that year, and when I went to her home I was completely floored by how attentive her mother was, and how nice her father was, to her _and_ to me. I think that day was the first time someone had been nice to me… I think."

"Sorry to hear that," Yuuki said. What else could he say?

"It's all history anyway," she waved his concerns off with a shrug, but the way she said it made his frown deepen. "I confronted dad about that a while later; I'd only wanted to ask a question, but… well, my temper came up, and we ended up yelling at each other. What really got me was what he said; apparently mom had left us right after I was born because of me, because of _this_," she raised her pull a bit, revealing the flame mark on her right flank. "He apparently had a cousin that was involved in Princess Week, and mom believed in the genetic HiME theory—she was an egghead somewhere, I forget where—so she blamed him for 'tainting her' with a monster," she spat those words with an unsettling anger. "That night was the first time I could remember him ever hitting me, and… well, with everything I felt that night, I couldn't bring myself to love him again after that.

"I think he realized that, or maybe he just felt guilty about hitting me, since I looked so much like mom, I guess. Either way, he started talking to bottles after that, coming home late and stinking of beer or sake or whatever the bar he'd raided that night had decided to serve him. That lasted about a year, then…"

She took a deep breath. It trembled a little. He almost offered her to stop talking, but some morbid curiosity held him back.

"I was nine. I'd been digging around his stuff looking for money so I could buy some instant Ramen for both of us—for me, really, but it's not like I could stop him from taking it—when I found a hairclip in his room. I thought some whore had left it behind in his room, so I put it on; I remember thinking it matched perfectly with my hair," she sighed. "I should have realized it then… it used to belong to my mom."

"What happened?"

"I didn't find the money in the end, so I waited for him at the table. I must have dozed off, 'cuz the next thing I remember was seeing dad even more wasted than usual, looking at me and saying mom's name… and…" she broke off there, shuddering, then continued sotto voce, "I told him to stop, told him I wasn't mom, but he didn't listen. He pushed me down and… and started touching me and tried to kiss me, and I panicked…"

Yuuki felt a chill run down his back. He hadn't—she hadn't been—…

"…then _this_ happened." She raised her hand, and without as much as a twitch her Element materialized in her palm, blindingly bright in the darkness of the car. "I think, if I hadn't been a HiME, something awful would have happened to me that night. As it was… well, Durhan ripped him to shreds; the biggest piece of him that was left would have fit in a doggy bag. The light is green."

Yuuki looked carefully at Natsuki's face. Her eyes stared fixedly at the traffic light—he took a quick glance in front and pressed on the accelerator—and while her expression showed nothing, that was a message in itself; poker face. Those memories had to be hurting her a lot even now. He couldn't blame her, but didn't believe it was up to him to try and heal her. If Fujino-san and Himeno-san hadn't managed to tend to them, he couldn't, either.

"Do you know how they keep HiMEs in prison?" she suddenly asked after a few seconds of silence.

He gave a tentative nod, eyes on the road as someone moved out of his way—a common occurrence while driving a squad car. "Some countries use sedatives, we use the black rooms."

"A perfect name for them," she spat with a disgusted sniff. "HiMEs materialize their elements from light around them, from photons—I've done my research," she added at his surprised look. "We need a certain level of light to materialize them, and the black room is a place where that level is never reached; the darkness is total, the temperature is kept at around fifteen degrees—I don't think it _needs_ to be that cold, mind, but the people who made those things…—the food is given cold, we're given a blanket so we don't die, and that's it." He knew she was speaking from experience. "Supposedly it's more humane; personally, I think sedatives are nowhere near as bad. People don't go nuts from sedatives. They just wake up and they're older—when they wake up, that is. Probably has more to do with the fact that black rooms are a hell of a lot cheaper; you don't even need to heat it."

"So you…" he felt like a douche for asking. She didn't wait for him.

"I spent about month in one, before my trial… well, I _think_ it was a month. Pretty sure anyway. During that time, people kept coming to my room at all hours, telling me to confess, to say I did it on purpose because I hated him… and I did, but I wouldn't say anything, and nothing they could do to me was more than I could handle. I had killed him, there was no doubt about that; the cops that came in found me standing in the middle of the room, covered in my dad's guts and holding my guns. But they didn't just want proof that I'd done it, they wanted a confession of int…in…that I had meant to do it."

"Intent."

"That," She nodded. "It was a good thing Durhan realized he was scaring me and vanished when he did, since… I don't want to know what he would have done when they took me away."

Yuuki winced. "And then?"

"To make a long story short, I was rescued by… someone," Kuga's voice turned wistful, "She spoke to me in my cell, told me what she thought had happened; she'd been very close, to a few details maybe." A smirk appeared on the bluette's face as she continued, this time with both fondness and mocking in her tone, "she up and declared myself a victim, herself a hero of justice, and made herself my lawyer when everyone else thought a death sentence was the least I was looking at."

"Hero of justice?" He repeated in disbelief. Natsuki shrugged.

"She was that kind of person; she was silly, immature for a grownup—I think I'm more mature now than she was back then… probably still am, thinking about it—but she was very focused, and damn good at what she did. It's all thanks to her if I'm here now," she finished, her element vanishing like a wisp of smoke as her hand moved to her collar, "as stuck as I am now, with this thing around my neck, my life is a lot better than it used to be."

"So then, the reason you're helping the police is…"

"That I have to; I don't know how she did it, but she convinced the judge that I'd be better off doing this than ending up rotting in my cell for nine years, waiting to be old enough for the gas room. I guess she must have told him it'd be convenient to have someone at hand who could kill Orphans if they show up, or to stop a rampaging HiME—this was only a few years after Princess Week, and I heard there'd been another… problem while I was locked up." Her hand released the little bit of black plastic around her neck.

"Kuga Natsuki, the Minato ward police's secret weapon."

"They don't of you like that," Yuuki noted.

She shook her head. "You're wrong. The captain does, at least. A lot of the people at administration think so too. I… might not have made the best first impression, though."

"I can imagine," he smirked, and was surprised to be able to feel so honestly amused after hearing what he'd just been told. At her sniping glare, he shook his head. "I don't think the captain does. She sure bit me in the ass when you ran off on me."

Kuga snorted. "Please. _That_ was because she was afraid she'd lose her big guns, not because she cares about me. The only one who really does is Kumaji. Ishigami too, I guess."

He was still pretty sure she was wrong, but after quickly digging through his meetings with the ferocious chief failed to bring up more arguments, relented. However, it surprised him that she'd hesitate on Ishigami's topic. "You guess?"

"He's… I dunno." She shrugged. "I always feel weird around him. It's like he likes me _too much_—not that way," she immediately corrected, seeing Yuuki's sudden alarm, "it's just… well, I dunno. He's just not… right, y'know? I can't explain. He's too nice."

For someone who'd been treated like her, anyone who'd be kind to her on a frequent basis would be too nice, he figured. He made a show looking at the right lane to avoid looking at her in the face; she wouldn't react well to pity, he knew.

"And besides, he's scared of me," she continued, then at his unspoken question, explained, "I can just tell. He's good at hiding it, but I've seen the way he looks at Durhan and my guns when they're out." She shrugged, "I'm used to it, though. Most Tokyoites are scared to death of HiMEs because of the morons who did Princess Week."

"Even Kumaji?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Surprised me when I found out, too. 'course, he's good at being scary, too, so that's why we ended up together. If anyone has the guts to hit that remote, it's him."

Yuuki's eyebrow rose. "I'm surprised you like him so much, then."

"I said he'd have the guts to do it, I never said he'd _like_ it. That's more than I can say for a lot of people," Kuga remarked. Yuuki winced. To hear a thirteen years old say things like that screamed _wrong_ to him, and _he_ wasn't a person of mass destruction with a collar around his neck.

It occurred to him that treating HiMEs this way was a fantastically bad idea. They seemed to have learned the _wrong_ lesson from Princess Week, if anything.

"Then there's… you, I guess." Kuga continued, quietly.

"Hm?"

She didn't reply immediately. In fact, she said nothing until he turned the corner at the street leading to the Orphanage several minutes later, by which time he'd assumed he wouldn't get an answer.

"You're not scared of me," she finally said just as the Orphanage came into view.

"I'm not," he confirmed.

"You should be," she noted.

"Why?" He asked. "I'm carrying a gun right now. If I wanted to, I could shoot you now and there's not much you could do about it. Are you scared of me?" she raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Because you know I'd have no reason to do that. Same thing for you; just because you've got the power of a tank platoon, that doesn't mean you're going to use it all the time. I'd be scared of you _then_." He shrugged. "You threaten, you sneer, you yell, but you don't bite." Then, with a small grin, "not seriously, at least. I haven't forgotten that you shot me with those pea-shooters of yours when we met."

She snickered. "Perv."

"Honest mistake," he retorted, grin growing.

He slowed the car and parked it in front of the path leading to the Orphanage's front doors.

"Kuga," he said just as she reached for the door handle. "…we didn't start out on the right foot, and I admit it was partially my fault. Chances are, the chief will keep us together after this, so…"

"I know," she cut in, shrugging. "We'll see what goes on next. It was kinda my fault too… and you're not as bad as I thought you'd be, anyway. Even though you're a hopeless perv." She smirked.

"You're not as useless as I thought, either," he retorted with an equally snippy smirk, "even though you're a brat."

She made a sound, half amused half angry, then tugged on the door handle and pushed it open.

"See you later," she called as she stepped out into the rainy night, turning her head to look at him between her wet and tangled bangs, her expression growing playful as she shot a final parting word: "Tanaka."

"Yeah, 'later, Kuga," he replied.

And she closed the door.

* * *

**Epilogue: **

"SURPRISE!"

It was this chorused word, along with a subtly re-used banner saying "Congratulations!" hanging near the entrance, that welcomed Tanaka Yuuki in the Minato Ward Police HQ's lobby, the next day near noon. He didn't quite manage to hide his surprise to the perceptive eyes of his colleagues, and was still connecting names to grinning faces and clapping hands when Sakurazaki Haruko put a small package just a big bigger than his fist and wrapped in red and white in his hands, before standing on her tip-toes and planting a kiss on his cheek.

She then left his sight, hid in a corner somewhere and had an impressive, nearly terminal nosebleed. Such would never be known to him, however.

"Ah… ah?" He noised intelligently.

The Chief, standing next to Kumaji, sniffed with a bit of annoyance. "Just a welcome party those lazy employees of mine decided to throw so they could avoid work for ten minutes. Be grateful I'm even allowing that, Tanuki."

"Ma'am!" he saluted as sharply as he could—with his free hand.

She made an annoyed grunt and eyed the crowed with fiery eyes, "I need to make a call. You lot had better be back to work by the time I get back."

A chorus of affirmatives was her answer, and the ferocious woman turned heel and left.

"I'm pretty sure she knows she's not fooling anyone," Kumaji noted with a wry grin, "but let's pretend anyway."

"Captain's orders," Ishigami quipped with a sharp salute, which was welcomed by a handful of chuckles. Turning to Yuuki, Ishigami raised an eyebrow and pushed his square-rimmed glasses up on this nose. "Aren't you going to open it?"

"Ah…" Yuuki monosyllabled once more, glancing down at the package. "Um, sure?"

Inside the package turned out to be a coffee cup. Drawn on the side of it was a golden retriever, sitting calmly and smiling anthropomorphically. And at its feet stood a poodle, white and fluffy and adorned with pink bows, which growled and snarled at the viewer.

"There's a shop not far from here that sells all kinds of stuff like this," noted the Ann Lê, the radio operator. "Everyone here has one of those cups… and, well, this one's yours. Welcome to HQ, Tanuki."

"Hah…" he noised, eying the dogs. The poodle was… obvious, but was the other one supposed to be him?

"There was one with a raccoon on it," Lê continued, grinning impishly, "but the position it was in was… inappropriate for Princess, if you get what I mean. If you'd like, we can go back and—"

"It's fine," he interrupted immediately, causing not a small amount of laughter. "Well, I'll make sure to put it to good use, then. Thank you."

The Vietnamese woman grinned. "No prob. Enjoy the party while it lasts."

And he did. Some part of him felt it was a little weird not to have Kuga trailing behind being a sourpuss or cracking wry comments, but today was Monday, and nothing could ever justify a Japanese child missing school, _ever_. By the time the chief returned to break up the celebrations, they had mostly broken by themselves.

"Oh, by the way, Tanuki," the chief declared once her station had once more become a work place, "I expect to have your report on your last case by this evening. Doctor Tachiki was quite startled to get another burned corpse to look at, and she wants to know how that happened."

Yuuki rolled her eyes. "Tell her not to get her hopes up. I'm not quite sure myself." He ran a hand through his hair. "This whole case was by far the weirdest I've ever been involved in."

The fierce and cruel woman smirked. "Yes, and I'm looking forward to seeing how much you actually include in it. Remember that I won't be the only one reading it."

He grimaced. "Oh, _thanks_. And what about Kuga? Does she have to write one, or…"

It was her turned to make a face. "She did, once. It was an indescribable mess. I'm not gonna bother asking that of her until she's old enough to understand just why reports are important."

He did his best to keep his face level, while inwardly measuring how likely this was going to be. A good case could be made that someone who _isn't_ an actual member of the police force has no business writing reports, and he had all kinds of suspicions that the overly clever little girl would figure that out far before she'd have to write a single word for the chief's eyes.

The chief left him with an encouragement that wasn't much of one, and for the first time since moving to Tokyo, Yuuki actually sat down at his desk, settled a familiar form in front of him, and got started.

Twenty minutes later and about a few hundred words scribbled in, Kumaji turned the corner of his cubicle to find him leaning back in his chair, ballpoint pen doing little sideway flip-flops over his upper lip as he stared at the ceiling.

"It helps if you say factual," Kumaji commented helpfully. Yuuki rolled his eyes and let the blunt end of the pen roll into his mouth.

"How do I shtay facthual abouth a plasth—" he dropped the pen in his hand and idly wiped it on his vest, "plastic chair being thrown through a bulletproof window?"

"You write that a plastic chair was thrown through a bulletproof window," Kumaji replied flatly. "It'll probably make a good step-in, before you introduce the invisible box, the disappearing car, the unnoticeable open door and the spontaneously combusting bodies."

"Do I really have to make myself look like a loon on my very first report here?" Yuuki protested.

"It's only lunacy if there's no evidence supporting you, and I'd appreciate _not_ looking like one in mine, so please write the honest truth," Kumaji retorted. "Wanna take a break? I need to talk to you anyway."

Yuuki gave another glance at his report, noted that his squiggles had been growing increasingly squigglier with each line, and shrugged. "Sure."

Kumaji waited until both of them were settled in the perpetually secluded break room, coffee steaming easily from their cups before talking. "Have you solved my little riddle yet?"

Riddle? What riddle…

"What's in a good team," he clarified when Yuuki's confusion made itself known on his face. "I take it you haven't even thought about it?"

Yuuki shrugged. "I've been busy."

"I bet," Kumaji replied with a mustached smile. "Can you think of an answer now?"

"Ah… well, people who get along, I guess," Yuuki shrugged. "To be honest, I've never really been partnered with anyone, and Kuga isn't exactly the most normal partner around."

"Hm," Kumaji agreed silently. "But that should only make answering my question easier."

Yuuki raised an eyebrow. The older man sighed the sigh of a grandfather explaining something simple to a particularly dull grandson. "What are you good at?"

"Well, uh… figuring people, making connections, I guess," Yuuki replied hesitatingly. "Not incredible at it, but not bad."

Kumaji made a noncommittal noise. "And Kuga?"

"Spotting things," he replied immediately. "Not just stuff that's invisible for us common mortals, or even with her dog, but she seems to remember a lot of stuff I gloss over."

"She should be; I trained her to be like that," Kumaji confided. "She's a really quick learner, and she's got a good head on her shoulder even with all the schooling she's missed. Sadly, she's got one big problem."

"She's crappy with people." Yuuki noted. "Considering the way she grew up and how people treat her, I can't say I blame her."

"I see she told you about that. Nasty business all around, that," Kumaji sighed, then brought the coffee cup to his lips and drained it by half. Yuuki followed with less enthusiasm.

"The thing is," Kumaji spoke once he was done drinking, "you're pretty good with people. I've been looking at you myself; you have no problem whatsoever getting information from witnesses, and you're pretty good at figuring out how people tick. You're not quite there yet, both I see the beginnings of a future profiler in you. That same potential is something your superiors back in Misato-cho noticed and passed on in their reports," He paused a second, giving time so Yuuki could absorb that little bomb, before continuing, "As for Princess, she'll never be good at that. She's more of a detective in the traditional sense. When you add up the fact that she's stronger, faster and has a better sense of smell than anyone human bar another HiME, she's got the potential to be the best detective in the force, if she decides to continue that way past this… evaluation period."

"That's a pretty big if," Yuuki noted, "but I think I get what you're saying. What goes well in a team… it's people whose talents complete each other, right?"

Kumaji nodded. "Even though I pretty much had to spell it out, you got it. And we know it's a big if. And your job, among others, is to make sure that if happens."

"What? How?"

Kumaji grinned. "By being you."

Then the large man drained the rest of his cup, got up, and left Yuuki to his thoughts.

Although he handed his report late, Chief Akitori said nothing.

As he'd expected, it made him sound like a loon.

* * *

"I apologize, but I must go back before my absence is noticed," declared the young man, bowing in reverence, a knee on the tiled floor.

Lounging on the simple, elegant white lazy-boy, which he'd specifically made center-piece of his rented hotel room, Homura Nagi turned his attention away from the gift he'd just received and gave a honest smile at his agent. "Then, I'll let you go. Thank you very much," he added.

The agent smiled with equal honesty and left, silently clicking the light but solid lacquered doors behind him. Nagi made an approving noise; help as useful as him was rare to find and precious to keep, thus one should always make them feel appreciated—and they were. With him gone, however, Nagi lowered his masks and sprawled across the seat until he was fully on his back, head against the armrest, one leg upraised on the seat, one arm likewise, but dangling in front of his face. He remained in that position for several seconds, resting, his body light, but his mind heavy.

"He has left the building, Nagi-sama," a disembodied, lilting female voice spoke.

"Hn," Nagi noised. "Thank you, Satsuki-chan. You can go, now."

"…_hai_."

And although nothing in the room changed, Nagi knew he was suddenly alone. From his dangling hand, Nagi allowed the precious bauble he'd just received, a small purple bead on a simple necklace, to drop and hang from its cord. For several seconds, he stared tranquilly at the bright hotel lights glittering on the glass, eyes unreadable. Finally, he sighed, his peace broken.

"So much blood and tears split for so little," he mused aloud.

"I had not wanted it to be this way," another female voice, this one sorrowful, spoke. Although it was equally lilting and young on the surface, there was an unsettling note of _ancientness_ within it, in the way the words were spoken.

Nagi raised a single eyebrow and twisted his head upward and around, so he could look at the newcomer in the face.

"Well, well. The unfaithful wife makes her grand entrance," Nagi declared, his voice betraying amusement which both of them knew was completely devoid of truth. "Have you come to apologize for your lapse of judgment?"

The young(?) girl's long lavender hair waved as she shook her head.

"We both know that won't happen," she replied.

Nagi shrugged. "I know, I was just wondering if you'd grown a warm enough heart to feel guilt at what you've done, my dear queen of hell. Evidently not." With a twitch of his hand, he sent the necklace whirling in a spiral around his hand until it came close enough for his fingers to close around it once more. Then, with baffling agility, he twisted his body so he sat on the armrest, his legs off the couch. "Although I am the jester and animator of the festival, even I would have never done anything as cruel as that, _Mashiro-hime_."

Mashiro's piercing green eyes closed. "I did what I had to do. The festival—"

"—was necessary, and you knew it better than anyone else," Nagi snapped. "Yet even now, you still try to interfere with what must happen and cannot be stopped by mortal hands. I hope you realize how much suffering happened because of how you tried to hide the necklace behind those seals on the Torii. Even one of the true HiMEs was harmed, not to mention all of the innocents who died—"

"That was your mistake," Mashiro was quick to point out.

"Yes, because _you_ forced me to find a few human thieves to use before those treacherous idiots discovered what _this_ was!" He waved the hand containing the amulet. "As for your supposedly _brilliant_ idea of spreading the curse far and wide, I have no idea what you were thinking. Certainly, it allowed you to leave the gates unattended without taking the risk of having them suddenly open—well, more than they did, at least—but what will our lord think when he awakens to find so many _filthy commoners_ usurping His power? He will be furious."

All signs of amusement were gone. The seemingly young girl's eyes remained shut, while those of the seemingly young boy glared with a cold fury unbefitting of his age. "He'll be furious," he repeated, "and the innocents you _selfishly _afflicted with the cursed fate of HiMEs, and their loved ones, will be the ones who will pay the price."

"I thought that if… if a HiME was to be defeated—any HiME, not just the twelve, then…"

"You were _wrong_." Nagi snapped, and for the first time, Mashiro winced. "Countless HiMEs have lost their loved ones to the curse, yet only one pillar was raised—only one _true_ HiME was defeated. That is a sign that those _fakes_ are unfit replacements. Now, if they were of the HiME's bloodline, then perhaps our lord would consider it—but fate is careful, and the HiMEs are always the only female children of their blood." He sighed. "I suppose that, to someone who seeks to break the cycle at all costs, doing what you did seemed like the best solution. Sadly, it was not.

"He's coming, Mashiro-chan," Homura Nagi told the estranged queen of hell, closing his eyes as the weight of his words pressed down on him. "He's coming for the end of the cycle, and I'm afraid that because of what you did, this festival will be the most violent and bloodiest festival in history."

He opened his eyes.

Mashiro was already gone.

"…but of course, you already know that," he sighed, his eyes trailing to the open window and the orange hues of the setting sun, "don't you, Mashiro-hime."

High in the sky, the HiME star glowed red.

_And somewhere underground, a massive clock advanced by a single minute…_

_

* * *

_

**Aku****-dono's final words: **

Some lecture to follow up on this chapter: (3w)/ irishtimes com / newspaper/ world/ 2009/ 0728/ 1224251492461 .html (remove spaces). Not everything is suns, flowers, giant mechas and huge eyes in Japan, especially for suspects. And while Natsuki is a child, she's a HiME, and… well, I _hope_ most of you have figured out what Princess week was about, well it did nothing to make them more inclined toward treating Natsuki gently.

Yes, a good case could be done claiming that black rooms are cruel and unusual. The same thing could be said for sedatives, but how do you want to keep a person of mass destruction locked up? HiME or not, they are people, and one of the _few_ things HiMEs managed to keep for themselves was the designation of "person" to themselves, which limits the conditions in which they can be given a death sentence.

Not that they don't try. Premeditated murder is one. Accidental murder and self-defense are not. If Natsuki had "admitted", well…

And with this ends the first part of My∞HiME. The second part will be here... eventually.

Hope you enjoyed this ride, as long as it was... dear gods, I'm slow. Anyways. Remember to review, please. Good reviews are an incredible ego boost and keep me writing ;)


End file.
